#I just find that shitty towards the other artists

[onlyhuis]

late night talking

member — minghao x f reader genre — angst, idk if there's enough fluff for this to count as hurt/comfort but the ending is sort of happy ? word count — 2.1k synopsis — the best and worst conversations always happen at 1am. warnings — reader is very drunk and very very insecure, lots of crying, lots of internal back & forth, unreliable narrator moment, refers to reader as girlfriend/my girl/etc., idk if i'm missing anything else but lmk if i am notes — this is an old fic that i never really intended to be released but @onlymingyus and @wooahaeproductions convinced me otherwise. sorry this is not at all what i normally post lmao i swear don't write like this often i just found this in my drive that i wrote when i was in a very shitty mood. we will return to your regularly scheduled smut programming soon i promise lmao! leave a comment in the reblogs or send an ask if you enjoyed this? idk i am nervous to post this pls don't perceive me too much

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you're ugly when you're drunk.

“hao?”

your voice rings throughout the house, the sound shaky and quieter than usual.

he wouldn't even have known you were home if he hadn't heard your friend's car pull up minutes ago, bright headlights flashing through the bedroom window. he wouldn't have known, if he wasn't already worried sick at you being gone so long and consuming an unknown amount of alcohol. he should've been there with you, but too much was riding on the deadline for his students’ grades that had to be finished before midnight. any other day he would've been by your side the whole night, a steady hand on your arm for balance and a sharp eye on your glass just in case. he loves playing the role of protective boyfriend, letting his girl do whatever she wants because he'll always be there to watch over her. but he couldn't do that tonight, and it tears him up inside.

he hears your trudging footsteps down the hall, soft footfalls signalling your approach as you drag yourself towards the room. he pretends not to hear; he doesn't want to make a big deal out of this and embarrass you.

“you're home early,” he comments with a chuckle, but his sarcasm is lost on you in this state. it's well after 1 in the morning, and you tilt your head in confusion at his words, brows deeply furrowed.

“what— are you working on?” you ask after a moment, focusing all your energy on not stumbling over your words. 

you know how drunk you are, he knows how drunk you are, but even now you're still putting on an act. you hate feeling stupid in front of him, and right now you couldn't feel any stupider. the worst part is that you feel as stupid when you're sober as you do right now, but you couldn't tell him that.

he pauses, choosing his next words carefully as he surveys your current state. he can't risk hurting your feelings, especially in such a vulnerable headspace.

“grading finals,” he decides on. not too detailed to confuse you, not too simplified to make you feel stupid, just enough to make you feel involved.

distantly you feel your eyes welling up with tears. you don't know why, but at the same time you know exactly why. you're never good enough compared to him, not when you come home drunk in the dead of night, and he never does. not when he's so good at everything he touches, so talented and beautiful and perfect, and you're… not. 

he deserves someone at his level, an artistic genius like him who can help him with his work. someone with an eye for his paintings, someone smarter, someone prettier, someone who can keep him on his toes. someone who won't drag him down and burden him with your obvious lack of skill and your quality of being so embarrassingly lightweight that you need to be supervised at all times. 

“i’m sorry,” you finally muster. you can't find the words to explain what you mean, but you hope he's able to sense your sincerity.

“what for?” he asks. his voice is softer now. 

you hate it when he uses that voice. he's talking down to you, talking like you're a child and he has to explain everything to you in the gentlest way possible because you aren't capable of handling the truth.

you love when he uses that voice. sometimes he can be so blunt it almost feels isolating, but when he talks to you like you're a child in that sweet, gentle, kind tone you feel like everything will be okay. he can soften himself for you, drop his straightforward persona around you and be the tender man you know he's capable of being. 

you lift your eyes to his computer screen and the feelings you've been struggling with float back into view. “i'm sorry,” you repeat, voice cracking despite the effort you put in to stop it from breaking. it's all you can say.

you don't notice when the tears overflow, bursting from your eyes without a sound. you're embarrassing, you're an idiot, standing in front of him with red eyes and hunched shoulders as tears stream down your cheeks. you don't even feel them fall.

if he knows what you're trying to convey with your tearful apologies, he doesn't mention it. 

of course he knows, how could he not when he's so astute with everything? you suck at keeping things to yourself. 

of course he doesn't know, why would he take the time out of his busy schedule to care about how you're feeling? you're not worth his energy.

the moment seems to stretch on for eternity, standing in front of him. you don't know why you started dating in the first place; he doesn't have the time, you're too annoying, too clingy, too affectionate. standing in front of him, you don't feel anything. you just feel cold.

you turn to drag yourself out of the room, deciding that you've embarrassed yourself enough by now. you don't know where you'll go or what you're doing, probably to pour yourself a glass of water and try to sleep on the couch. obviously he won't want you to sleep in his bed when you’re like this, why should he? you aren’t deserving of that privilege.

but then you feel a warm hand on your wrist, gently tugging you back towards him. you lose your balance, stumble over your feet, fall onto his lap. you're mortified, barely able to get another “sorry” out before trying to stand again on wobbly legs. you shouldn't be here. you're so aware, so painfully conscious of your weight on him, every ounce of energy you have left fighting to keep yourself from annoying him even further but it feels like it's too late. everything that comes from you is too little, too late.

“no,” he says. his tone is still that soft, sweet sound, but his voice is firm and you don't try to get up again. “we can talk tomorrow,” he says as he begins to run his hand along your back, and you hate yourself for the way you instantly melt at his touch. “just… relax. calm down.”

your body slouches against his chest, feeling like a puddle on his lap, head tucked into the crook of his neck whether you meant to or not. your legs dangle limply off his lap, arms wrapped loosely around the back of his chair as he holds you.

“it's okay,” he says simply, still stroking his hand along your back in small, soothing motions. “it's okay.” he repeats the words, maybe to convince himself but mostly to convince you from having a breakdown. even now when he's treating you so delicately, your brain won't let you rest: he's probably scared of you, he doesn't mean it, he doesn't mean any of it and he's using whatever means necessary to stop you from turning hysterical or even violent. of course it doesn't mean anything to him. 

“how much did you drink tonight, baby?” he asks, and you know you should take that as judgmental but you don't have the energy left anymore. you don't note the twinge of concern in his voice, you can't see the look in his eyes as he gazes down at you.

“a little— a lot,” you answer, somewhat truthfully. the real truth is that you lost count. you weren't trying to get drunk, but one turned into two turned into ten and before you even knew what you were doing a car was dropping you off in front of your house.

he shifts his legs for you to sit more comfortably on his lap, and as much as you want to fight it you don't have the strength to. “do you want to go to bed?” he asks gently. “or do you want to stay up with me?”

“don't… want you to go to bed ‘cuz of me,” you mumble against his neck. god, his skin is so soft and warm. you couldn't move your body right now even if you tried. “not your fault.”

“what kind of guy would i be if i didn't take care of my girlfriend when she needs me?” he asks. “i can put you to bed if you want. it's alright. it's late anyway.”

“it's not– your job,” you manage to reply, and his hand on your back stops for a second.

“it is my job,” he says softly. he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. “i'm sorry if you feel like i haven't done that.”

“please, don't— no sorry,” you choke out as fresh tears prick at your eyes. “it's my fault. i'm sorry. it's my fault.”

he holds you tighter, both arms wrapped around you on his lap now. “it's not your fault,” he says in that same firm but gentle voice. “you haven't done anything wrong at all. it's alright, baby, i promise. you don't have anything to worry about. why are you sorry?”

“i don't know,” you mumble. your hand clutches at his chest unconsciously, balling his t-shirt in your fist. “i dunno. i love you. i dunno.”

“i love you, too,” he says after a beat. the tears, the drunken outburst, he just lets it all happen. without a word of complaint. despite the voices in your head fighting to convince you otherwise, he never says a single negative thing to you.

you know he's not normally like this. with everyone else he's polite, unemotional, reserved. he's never vulnerable. which is why you're so confused right now.

“why?” you slur, still grasping onto hope.

he hums in questioning, nudging you to elaborate.

“why are you like this to me?”

but now he's the one who's confused. “like what?”

you pause, and the room goes quiet for a moment, the only sound your shallow breaths against his chest. “nice.”

for all his knowledge, this time he's actually lost. “why would i not be nice to you?”

“i don't deserve it.”

he shifts again, pulling you closer to his chest as he starts to run his fingers through his hair. “of course you do, baby.”

“you don't deserve me.”

he stops again, this time in shock. “hey. that's not true.”

“is too true,” you say. your eyes are closed and you can't help the frown overtaking your face. “you should have somebody you deserve. it's not me.”

he just sighs, and you feel his chest expand beneath your cheek at the deep breath he takes. “i love you, baby. not anyone else. you'll feel better in the morning, and we can talk then. but i'm not mad at you, okay? there's nothing wrong. everything's okay.”

you try to mimic his sigh, but the angle you're laying at on his chest and the alcohol in your system makes it hard to breathe deeply. 

“do you want to keep sitting with me?” he asks. he knows how much you like the sounds his keyboard makes, the quiet tapping as he enters grades and types comments to his students about things you could never fathom to understand.

your eyes stay closed and your head doesn't move. “yeah,” you murmur softly.

he settles back into his chair, you curled up on his lap. he's not doing much, he's finished the worst of it and now just entering numbers. he glances down at your figure, almost asleep on him, and he feels an ache in his chest. 

every emotion feels amplified to you right now, but if it took getting blackout drunk for you to finally say it then it must've been weighing on you for a long time coming. he wonders how long you've felt like this, felt inadequate compared to him, and it makes him pause. it was never his intention. when you're awake and sober and hopefully not massively hungover, then you can talk, and he can make this right.

he loves the person snuggled against his chest, loves the feeling of you comforted and protected by him, and he'll do anything to make sure you know that. he'll do anything to let you see yourself the way he sees you. above all the worries he has about you, he knows one thing for sure.

you're cute when you're drunk.

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[luvsellie]

MASC ON [e. williams]

pairing high school au!ellie x fem!reader

summary being the new girl in school meant walking in to projects smack-dab in the middle of the year. but when you get assigned to work with the masc girl who sits next to you, there’s no hiding your blatant attraction toward her…and maybe she can’t hide her’s either.

warnings ellie and reader are 18 here (seniors in high school) !! kissing, pining (this is literally just fluff and i wanted an excuse to write for flashback el)

wc 3.9k

note this is incredibly self-indulgent and took me an embarrassing long amount of time to actually write i apologize (title inspiration from the song mask off by future)

“this is so stupid.”

ellie’s complaint compelled you to roll your eyes, a redundant sigh escaping you. “i heard you the last three times you said it.”

your deskmate slumped against the side of her bed, nimble fingers fidgeting with a slightly chewed pen as she watched you create a rough outline of the halle comet on a large poster board—she thought it was more entertaining than trying to gather the essential information your teacher had required to be provided. you could feel her eyes observing every flick and stroke of your pencil as you struggled to copy the image from your laptop.

the task had deemed itself to be more complicated than you thought, and after one more final attempt, you tossed the writing utensil to the side in frustration. “this is so stupid.”

snorting at your disgruntled attitude, ellie reached for the pencil. “how about this; i’ll draw and you get the stats. i’m dying of boredom over here.” she shuffled closer before you could object, shoving her textbook your way.

not bothering to argue, you grabbed your backpack and started to sift through the supplies you had brought along to her house. markers, pens, pencils, scissors, binder…

removing your binder from your bag you flipped it open, only to be met with other assignments and notes from varying classes. groaning, you said over a shoulder, “ellie do you have notebook paper?”

“yeah—top drawer of my desk,” she answered without looking in your direction, her short hair falling to cover the side of her face.

nodding to yourself, you shoved your things back in your bag and stood, making your way toward her desk. it was rather cluttered, which didn’t shock you in the least, but still organized in probably a way only ellie would understand.

you grabbed the first drawer’s handle and gently pulled, exposing the mess that was inside. grumbling to yourself about how ellie couldn’t possibly be able to find anything in this chaos, you began to poke through her things. managing to spot a spare journal—which you noted was not looseleaf paper like you had asked—you carefully maneuvered the notebook out from underneath all of her art supplies.

hip-thrusting the drawer shut, you flipped the journal open, eager to get on with the research you did not want to do, simply to get this project over with. but as you overturned lined pages, you came to realize this was a sketchbook—and you were the starring subject.

“ellie,” you called, eyes trained on a drawing of you slumped over a book in the school library (you recalled this day rather vividly).

the auburn-haired girl finally looked up from her spot on the carpeted floor. she quickly realized what was in your hands. “shit,” she couldn’t help but mutter in panic. ellie rushed to her feet, already reaching to take the sketchbook from you. “sorry, you weren’t supposed to-”

you said her name again, interrupting her explanation with “you would’ve saved me a lot of time had you been the one to draw that ridiculous comet from the get-go.”

ellie’s arm fell to her side, and she tried to calm her racing heart with a deep inhale. she scratched the back of her neck sheepishly, invisible strings tugging on the corners of her mouth when she realized you weren’t pissed at her. “yeah, i guess you’re right.” she paused before adding, “you’re a really shitty artist.”

your eyes flickered to hers immediately, and you snapped the journal shut before smacking her left upper arm with it. “hey! i tried my best, okay? we can’t all be as talented as you.”

“got that right,” ellie mused, her familiar easygoingness making a return. she stuck a hand out. “can i please have my sketchbook back?”

you kissed the back of your teeth, giving her a look of contemplation as you hugged the object in your hand a little closer to your chest. “mm, i don’t know. i was thinking about going through it some more. i mean, i barely got to see anything.”

ellie’s eyebrows shot up. “seriously?”

“seriously,” you told her with a nod, taking a step closer to the desk behind you.

her hand dropped, and you swore that something flashed across her face, but before you could identify what it had disappeared. maybe i’m pushing it, you thought suddenly, growing aware of the way you were holding onto something that she probably poured her heart and soul into.

across from you, ellie adjusted her stance before shrugging. “alright. have fun, i guess. i just need it back tomorrow by 6th period.”

you blinked at her words, dumbfounded by her compliance. watching her return to the poster board on the floor, you held the little journal closer, already making note of what you would be doing later when you returned home.

ellie liked to draw you. she supposed it was rather obvious, but seeing the way your eyes widened as you observed her drawings made her second guess. had she really not been that apparent? she guessed not. and while she was excited to let you take her sketchbook home, she was more nervous.

it was very hard to sleep that night, and only when the small illuminated numbers on her alarm clock struck two a.m. did she finally manage to doze off.

“you look a little…rough,” dina said, cringing at her own word choice.

ellie ran a hand through her hair as she walked beside the shorter girl. “thanks. i hadn’t noticed.”

dina ignored the jab. “i can’t believe you actually gave it to her. hell, you never even let me touch that thing…and you’ve only known her for, like, two weeks! i am feeling a little betrayed, but it’s whatever.”

“letting her look at it just…felt right? i don’t know how to explain it. she doesn’t seem like someone who’d become suddenly disgusted by me drawing her way before we ever started talking,” ellie confessed, spotting the door to her earth and space class.

“ouch.” dina grabbed ellie’s arm, pulling her to an empty wall. “first of all, i wouldn’t be disgusted by you if i was her. secondly, stop being nervous. there’s no need for all of that.”

“i’m not nervous,” she objected immediately.

the brown-eyed girl stared blankly at her. “yes, you are. you’re more fidgety than normal. just go in there, sit down, and wait for her to walk in. you said she normally gets to class practically right before the bell rings?”

“yeah, she comes from the other side of the building.”

“perfect! now go.” dina shoved her friend in the direction of the classroom, waving her off with a smile.

sighing through her nose, ellie entered the room, greeted her teacher, and visibly sagged when she noticed you weren’t in your seat yet. there’s still some time, she thought to herself, not realizing that you had walked in behind her until you said: 

“hey, el, you’re kinda in the way.”

you watched as ellie turned to face you, her eyes wide as she whirled. “you got here fast,” she stated bluntly.

shrugging, you moved past her to walk toward your desk. as you sat you said, “class was in the library today since they were using our room for testing.”

ellie nodded from in front of you, still standing. you noticed how aloof she was acting. “are you gonna sit?” you asked, gesturing to the desk beside you.

“yes,” she said hastily, pulling back her chair. she landed with a thud. slouching against the back of her seat, she looked at you and continued, “you brought the poster in, right? this morning?”

your mouth pressed into a thin line. “yes, ellie, i brought the poster in. but we’re not presenting today anyway, so had i forgotten, we’d still be okay.”

“god, that is such a relief,” she sighed, leaning her head back to stare at the speckled tile ceiling and roll her tense shoulders.

“agreed,” you breathed while hauling your bag into your lap. unzipping it, you pulled out the familiar brown journal. “here. back to you before 6th period. just like you said.”

ellie took her notebook cautiously, setting it on her desk as she glanced at you.

“why’re you looking at me like that?” you asked skeptically, lowering your voice to a whisper as your teacher started class at the front of the room. “if you didn’t want me to take it then why did you give it to me in the first place?”

the girl beside you shook her head, leaning her body closer. you stared at the outline of her tattoo as she said, “i wanted you to take it. i’m just nervous that you look at me differently now.” 

your eyebrows shot upward, both taken back and confused by her answer. “why would i even-” you turned to face her. “ellie, i don’t look at you ‘differently’ because you draw me. i think it’s rather sweet, actually.”

ellie was bewildered by your words, recalling what dina had said earlier about how she would have loved it if she were drawing her. maybe she had been right. licking her chapped lips, she shifted in her seat, as if she were going to say something, but snapped her head to the front when the teacher said her name sternly.

“miss williams i need you to pay attention, please. this has to do with the project, and i will not be happy when you decide to ask me something i already explained to the class,” the man up front lectured, making both you and ellie sit a little straighter in your seats.

you sent ellie an apologetic look when she glimpsed in your direction. as your teacher moved on from his scolding, you grabbed her sketchbook from her desk and flipped it open to a clean page, pen in hand.

meet me at my locker after school? you wrote quickly, pushing it over for her to see.

ellie grabbed the writing utensil you gave her. i have basketball practice after school :(

frowning, you exaggerated a sigh, shooting a playful eye roll her way as you scribbled out a reply. then i’ll come by the locker room after practice. there—problem solved.

problem solved. ellie wrote back with a grin, nodding at your solution.

“i am incredibly stupid. what was i even thinking?”

jesse was quick to shoot down your self-loathing, his shoulder brushing up against yours as he walked you in the direction of the girl's locker room. “no, you’re not. you were bold. there’s a difference.”

you pressed your lips into a thin line, cheeks slightly puffing out before you kissed the back of your teeth. anxiously running a hand over your face, you said, “well…is there really?”

“yes,” your friend quipped.

rolling your eyes, you shoved jesse jokingly as someone came walking out of the locker room. you instantly recognized dina in her cheerleading outfit, a knowing smile making its way onto your lips. the girl from your history class had always been super friendly.

“dina!” you called, earning a low groan from jesse.

the cheerleader grinned immediately, though you recognized its falter when she spotted her ex by your side. “hey! what’re you doing in the athletic building?” she made a show of not acknowledging jesse.

“i’m here for ellie!” you told her with a toothy smile, fidgeting with the straps of your backpack.

dina’s eyes widened with realization, but her bubbly appearance didn’t feign. she pointed a thumb toward the door she had come out of. “oh! she’s the last one still in the locker room, which i suppose you might’ve already known?”

shaking your head, you said, “yeah, i told her i’d meet her after basketball practice had finished.”

“well don’t let me keep you here then,” dina exclaimed, stepping out of the way to the door with the tiny woman’s symbol on it.

you nodded as you stepped past her, only looking over your shoulder to say, “i’ll see you guys tomorrow!”

“yep!” dina confirmed.

jesse shot you a reassuring grin as you disappeared into the dimly lit hallway that hosted the coaches’ offices.

heart beginning to race, you pulled the door handle to the locker room and forced your legs to move. the fluorescent lights were harsh against your eyes, your chest constricting with nerves as you walked past bathroom stalls, sinks, and floor-length mirrors. you couldn't remember the last time you had been in a locker room.

finally coming up on the athletic lockers (they were on a completely separate wall from the regular physical education lockers), you started to hear shuffling.

“ellie?” you called out, trying your best to not sound like you wanted to abandon this idea entirely.

as you passed a few more of the athletic cages, you spotted the girl you were searching for. her lack of a shirt made you balk.

turned toward the lockers, ellie passed a towel through her wet hair, arms tense with movement. you admired the taunt muscles of her back, her damp skin littered with small, but visible, freckles.

she hadn’t noticed your presence.

you cleared your throat promptly, offering her a smile when she turned around. trying not to be distracted by her toned arms and abdomen, you said, “hi ellie. hope i didn’t catch you at a bad time?”

she shook her head, mouth curling into something between a genuine grin and a satisfied smirk. “hey…and no, you caught me at a really good time, actually. practice ended about 45 minutes ago.”

nodding, you took a few steps closer. “yeah, i know. i asked a friend when practices normally end. figured me being a little ‘late’ would benefit. didn’t want to catch you before you had time to shower.”

“ouch,” she said, reaching to grab for her dirty practice t-shirt in her locker. ellie looked over her shoulder as you halted.

something about the way her eyes glinted made you deadpan, “if you throw that at me i will turn around and leave right now.”

chuckling to herself, ellie shook her head. “calm down, i’m not throwing anything at anyone.” she dramatically put the shirt and a pair of folded athletic shorts in a drawstring backpack before shoving it back into the locker.

“you are so annoying,” you snapped at her, moving to sit on the wooden bench placed directly in the middle nook of lockers. as you sat, you caught a whiff of sharp mahogany and cheap cologne.

ellie’s eyebrows raised, her shoulders leaning to press against the cool metal behind her. “and yet here you are, going out of your way to meet me in the back of the locker room after school.”

part of you was certain she made emphasis on the phrase ‘back of the locker room.’

shooting her a glare, though, you straightened as you said, “i said you were annoying, not that i didn’t like you.” there was a pregnant silence before you added, “besides, i wanted to ask if you wanted to go get coffee with me.” you watched ellie’s lips pull back in disgust, your heart dropping in an instant. “or not. sorry, i didn’t-”

“how about we go get dinner instead?” she interrupted. “coffee’s disgusting and i’m starving.”

blinking at her words, you licked your lips. “yeah. yes. that works.” it took you a moment to regain your composure. shit, i almost blew that. “i didn’t know you hated coffee.”

ellie turned and grabbed a hair tie. as she put half of her hair up—somehow in the most attractive way you might add—she said, “oh, yeah. that shit is gross.”

“um, have you even tried it?” you asked doubtfully, mouth forming into a frown. when the auburn-haired girl stayed quiet and instead clasped a thin silver chain around her neck you guessed her answer was clean no. 

you scoffed as you nudged her sock-covered foot. “i’m going to force you to try mine the next time i bring some.”

“sounds great,” ellie said sarcastically, a grin tugging on her lips. her smile sent chills sprawling down your spine.

shrugging off your backpack, you set it by your feet, muttering out a barely audible, “fuck.” you had no idea where this conversation was going, and your attempt at asking her out on a date had been a bust…sort of?

ellie had declined coffee and suggested dinner, but it still sounded like it fit more under the category of  ‘hangout as friends.’ talking to her was sometimes like talking to a brick wall. masc’s are so fucking clueless, you thought, releasing a heavy sigh through your nose. or maybe i’m not being obvious enough?

“what?” she asked at your suddenly agitated (as she’d describe it) attitude, wetting her chapped lips as she went to sit next to you. lifting a leg over the bench, she sat, body facing yours as she man-spreaded for comfort—her proximity and stature reminded you that she was still very much shirtless…and somehow way better at this (you weren’t sure what this even entitled) than you were.

goosebumps spread across the skin of your upper arms. you shifted, pulling up a knee to rest on the wood as you trailed off, eyes avoiding hers, “you’re just so…”

her head tilted, eyes narrowing as she leaned closer. there was no way she didn’t notice the way you sucked in a breath. “i’m so what? look at me when you talk,” she said.

your gaze snapped toward hers, but first flickered to the swell of her mouth.

“i’m so what?” she repeated, her voice lowering an octave. when you said nothing, she added, “cat got your tongue?”

between her teasing and the adrenaline coursing through your body, you were compelled to do the only thing you could think of to shut her up—to make her drop the questions. swallowing the lump building in your throat, you grabbed her face, thumbs pressing against her warm cheeks, and kissed her with unmistakable want.

although ellie hadn’t expected for you to be so physically direct, she did not mind it at all. following the rough pace you had set, she kissed you back with just as much ferocity, her fingers slipping into the belt loops of your jeans to slide herself forward and you closer.

you mewled at her movement, the pressure between your thighs growing as intensely as you were kissing her. she was quick to regain control of the situation you had thrust upon her.

“ellie,” you mumbled against her mouth, your eyes half-shut as she tugged on your jeans a second time.

“come here,” she told you hastily, lips trailing toward your left ear. “sit on my lap.” she kissed your temple. “please.”

shuddering at her request, you wasted no time in pulling away, pushing yourself off the bench, and situating your legs over hers in a straddle position.

the heat from ellie’s skin seeped through the fabric of your shirt, her hands slipping past the hem. you found yourself arching instinctively to her venturing touch, your stomach twisting into tight knots.

“you are going to make me go insane,” she confessed, her words coming out in a whisper, leaning in to kiss you again. her lips were gentler against yours, eager to savor the moment.

in turn, you indulged in letting your palms trace the sculpted muscles of her arms, fingers trailing every dip and curve from her years of work in the weight room. “you are so beautiful,” you told her delicately, relishing the way her skin burned under yours.

ellie followed the compliment, her hands finding your face and forcing you to look at her. green eyes etched with something between lust and admiration, she thumbed a corner of your mouth. “do you have any idea what you do to me?” she whispered. “from the moment you walked into that classroom…”

her words died in her throat and she swallowed thickly as you shook your head. “don’t do that. not here.”

“do what?” she questioned, adjusting her position on the bench.

the friction between your legs forced you to release a shaky breath, and you licked your lips in an attempt to focus on bringing your thoughts into coherent sentences. she was making it extremely hard. “i want to talk about this over dinner,” you told her hoarsely. “about what we are now. about what you want us to be.”

“are you saying you want to go on a date?” she asked quietly.

you couldn’t help your sudden smile. “i asked you earlier when i mentioned coffee, but you instantly shut that idea down.”

ellie rolled her eyes, though you could sense her pang of guilt. “you weren’t very clear on the date part. otherwise, i would’ve said yes immediately.”

surprise feigned your features. “you? saying yes to a coffee date?”

“oh, ha-ha.” she exaggerated the fake laugh. “and yes, had i known you were asking me out i would've sacrificed my comfort for your enjoyment. honestly, i think i do that quite often—as of right now i think my tailbone is being bruised.”

you sucked in harshly, moving off her with urgency as you shoved her shoulder with a hand. “why didn’t you say anything?!”

“and risk not feeling you up? yeah, no thanks.” her tone was definite.

your jaw fell slack as you crossed your arms over your chest, confounded by her response. “you can still feel me up without me in your lap, dummy.”

“yeah, but that sounds less fun,” ellie teased, holding up her hands in defense. she stood from her seat, reaching around you to grab her baseball t-shirt from earlier. as she put her arms through the sleeves she said, “i have a game tomorrow. you should come watch.”

you scrunched your nose jokingly, deciding to use her words against her. “and see you all sweaty? yeah, no thanks.”

ellie straightened out her shirt, shooting you a rather bemused look in the process. “how do you know you won’t like seeing me all sweaty and worn out?”

as she hunched down to pull on her converse, you exhaled heavily, unable to come up with something witty. mainly because she was right. you would totally like to see her all sweaty and worn out. so, with a slight bruise to your ego, you itched your nape, mumbling out, “i never said i wouldn’t like that. you always assume shit about me.”

“and you always assume shit about me, so we’re even,” ellie shot back, standing back up. she grabbed her backpack from inside the locker before changing the subject. “where do you wanna go for dinner?”

you shrugged, reaching down for your own bag. swinging it over a should, you said, “i don’t know. whatever you want. and you’re right, i do assume shit about you. like right now, for instance, i’m assuming you’re a picky eater.”

“i am not a picky eater.” she shut down your claim with a light kick to your shoe. “and fine, i’ll pick something and surprise you. did you drive to school today?”

you shook your head. “no.”

“great, looks like you’re sticking with me then.” she tried and failed to hide her cheeky smile. closing her locker, she grabbed your hand, hastily leading you toward the main hallway of the locker room. “come on.”

trailing after her, you felt your cheeks heat with the prompt realization of your reality. maybe you’d have to thank your earth and space teacher for assigning that stupid comet project. the steady growth of your relationship with ellie made your insides twist with pure excitement, and as she rambled about how much you would enjoy her restaurant of choice, you couldn't help but succumb to the feeling of pure bliss.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #tlou x reader #tlou #tlou2 #tlou ellie #tlou imagines #ellie williams tlou #ellie tlou #ellie williams x female reader #the last of us x reader #the last of us #the last of us part two #the last of us part 2 #the last of us part ii #wlw #sapphic #the last of us ellie #the last of us oneshot

[maggie-margret-blog]

Friends with Tattoo Benefits

Mingi was one of those guys you just couldn’t replicate. he had a sort of passion for life that was kinda hard to find in people.I had been seeing him as an artist for a little over a year now, slowly but surely filling my arms and mid section with ink. He was talented and enthusiastic about each new project I threw his way, may it be big or small. Mingi himself only had a handful of tattoos littering his milkish skin,but claimed he was in it for the arts, not the personal experience. I had a theory he was just a bitch about pain or needles, nevertheless I never bothered him about it during our sessions. And he couldn’t lie about the money either. It was good fucking money.

Mingi had become somewhat of a best friend, mixed in with all the other things that come with being in close contact for so long.

We had first met that one fateful morning, 2am to be exact, when I had decided that drunk tattoos would be a hilarious idea. In hindsight it was a wonderful memory and honestly I was better for the experience. My young, college ego had been inflated and a stupid decision was just what I needed to keep my head on my shoulders. The night had just begun for me and my friends, bar hopping and partying at each frat house we could bare to see the inside of. All the ones I had seen prior were rat nests, and yet I chose to place myself there. A few of my friends had tagged along one Friday in search of some of my famous shenanigans. Modesty forbid I ever keep my thrills to myself.

“C’mon let’s dip, this place sucks.” Renel quoted as she threw down a pink solo cup onto the frat house floor. We had only been there about 30 minutes and already we were feeling the effects of poor party planning. A dozen or more drunk college girls stood in a tight circle, grinding on any available guy, and in some cases other gals as Salt Shaker boomed from the shitty stereo system. Since the Ying Yang twins weren’t the vibe for the night, I wholeheartedly agreed- “Let’s get the fuck out!”

“I’m barely drunk! Give me a fucking minute!” San hollered over the loud music, grabbing onto Renel’s ponytail and stopping her from moving any further towards the door. “There’s smoke in my eyes, this drink taste like dog shit and my thong is literally splitting my asshole in half, San.” Renel growled as she swatted his hands away. “That’s your fault. Just take it off and sit down.” He laughed, knowing he was only egging her on. “Fine, here-“ Renel said smuggly as she reaches under her sequined skirt, pulling the lacey garment down her legs and stepping out of it. “Woah Ren-“ I began, on my for her to grab the thong and shove it in San’s pocket. “I’ll go sit down.”

“San you asshole.” I laugh lightly, never quiet getting over those two’s battles. “Remind me to give this back to her. If Yunho ever finds out I have his girlfriend’s thong in my pants, he’ll kill me.” He chortles. “I don’t think I will. You deserve a beating.” I joke.

“Tryna get rid of me?”

“Maybe.”

“He’s twice my size. I’m dead.”

“You’re a good guy, you’re fine.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m heading out. I’m meeting my friend downtown.” Hongjoon, another one of chipper friends, said as he pushed past us towards the exit. “Who?” I called out as the sixth drink I had been nursing finally began to hit me. Whatever this shit was was weak, and disgusting. Yet, I was still drowning my weekend stresses in it.

“Mingi. You know that tattoo guy I was talking about.” Hongjoon enthused. This guy was always so happy for some reason. “Are you getting a tattoo?” I asked again.

“Yeah why? You wanna come?”

“I’ll go. Anything to get me out of here.” I agree hastily as I set the solo cup I had been drinking from down. “I’m drunk enough I’ll go.” San called, as if he hadn’t been complaining of the opposite just minutes ago. “Go tell Renel.” I bark as I follow Hongjoon out into the yard.

Once San and Renel had caught up to us, we were already halfway downtown, passing bar after bar and collectively agreeing that we should all go to each one. “If we keep this up I’ll literally never make my appointment.” Joon whined as he threw back one last shot. “Fine, okay let’s go.” San gave a unionized answer for us all. “Mingi’s gonna kill me. He’s supposed to be closing and I’m already 20 minutes late.”

“We’re almost there Joon, calm down.” San said with a hint of a slur. With that statement we came up upon the shop. The neon light was already off, but a man sat at the counter with his head down to scroll on his phone.

“Hey Mingi! Sorry I’m so late!” Joon said sorrowfully as he brought his hands together and bowed shallowly. “Hey, no don’t worry about it. I was just chilling out.” The man spoke as he raised from the counter and reached out for Hongjoon’s hand. The whole place reminded me of a mechanic’s shop. Sort of industrial and gray, but art was strewn across the walls and a few neon light had been added to spruce up the place.

The size of this man had me speechless, though my drunken stupor may have exaggerated it. Mingi was maybe 6’0 and broad in the shoulders and chest. I could tell by the way his black compression shirt stretched over his muscles, rippling in their definition. With the buzz already prominent in my head, this man looked like a playground to me. All I wanted to do was climb him. I could feel a flush flooding my cheeks as he and Hongjoon giggled and joked over sketches and last minute ideas. I could just play it off as a liquor blush, but I knew it was because of him. Fuck he was attractive. He was just so big and handsome.

“Shouldn’t take too long. Maybe an hour.” Mingi said softly as he looked over the small design. It seemed to be just a simple spiderweb with a few intricacies.

As soon as Hongjoon laid down on the sterilized bed, he was snoring. Joon had never once been awake during a session. Either this was a result of the alcohol, or the pain was a sickening comfort for him. Either way he was out. I spent m my time, however, inspecting the artist and the way he did every little thing. His gloves were blue like they had at a doctor’s office, tight and defining over his veined hands. The tips of his thick fingers were gripping the gun firmly with a controlled pressure. His focus and precision were evident in both his work and how he carried out his task. Why was everything about him so alluring?

“Joon? Are you good buddy?” Mingi asked after working on the piece for a good hour. It was swollen and puffed, but I could already tell it would heal beautifully. “Yeah, I’m cool.” Joon said groggily.

San and Renel were sleeping across the waiting room chair at this point, San’s jacket draped over Ren’s legs. That’s small detail made me chuckle. Sure they had their differences, but if she was naked from the waist down in public, he’d protect her. “Dude sick, thank you.” Joon said as he looked over his Achilles heel, now inked and decorated. “No problem man. Now pay me and go home.” Mingi laughed lightly as he pushed Joon towards the front.

“How much?” I asked as an interception. “Hm?” Mingi cocked his head to the side as I stood from my seat, still a little wobbly from all the alcohol in my system.“How much for a small tattoo? A really little one.” I asked. I hadn’t known how I would get close to him, but this was the perfect opportunity. This way I really inspect him up close. Stare deep into his concentrated expression and analyze his eyes. Oh fuck, those eyes.

“Uh, all depends I guess. Why, do you want one?” He questioned as he handed Hongjoon a pen to sign his receipt. I nodded vigorously as I popped up from the plastic chair. I had no clue what I was doing, or why I just agreed to get a tattoo on the spot, but here I was. “Cool, give me a minute.” Mingi said with a smile, showing off his row of beautiful teeth. They weren’t straight but who cared? Not me! He was so cute!

“We’re gonna head out. I’ll get her back to Yunho.” Hongjoon said as he shook Renel awake for a minute or so. “Okay,” I said shortly as a twinge of turmoil erupted in my stomach. Sure this was kind of what I wanted, to be alone with this new hunk, but now I was alone alone? My body shivered involuntarily, spine tingling and adjusting at the thought. “Where’re you going San?” My voice was timid, a gleaming ray of hope in eye as i asked. I was praying that he could be talked into staying with me. “I’m going home so I don’t die. You know how Woo is if I’m not in before sunrise.” I only nodded at the statement as the unsettling feeling began to sober me. But I couldn’t pass this up!

“This way m’lady.” Mingi’s voice broke my illusion of loneliness as all my prior thoughts raced back in. He was the reason I stayed anyway. “Thank you.” I punctuated with a head nod as we walked back to where Hongjoon had just been napping. “Now, what’s going on? What’re we doing?” Mingi asked as he sat back against the counter, arms crossed to expose the few tattoos he had. Though not plentiful, they were big and loud. The one he sported on his left forearm was a colorful mural of what seemed to be hyper realistic squid. The body was red and luminescent with a somewhat manly aura somehow. It was an interesting choice for sure, but it was executed beautifully so I had to admire it for that reason. His right arm was detailed in black and white, a few odd and ends tattooed on his skin, probably to represent certain things. I did notice a small KQ prominent on the first knuckle of his index finger. KQ had been a music club hosted on my campus for years.

I laughed internally at the thought of this big, beefy man singing in a choir, or performing The Newsies at the campus theater. He didn’t seem the type. “Anything I guess. Maybe something coquette-ish.” I babbled, unable to tear my eyes away from Mingi’s form in front of me. I stood sheepishly in front of him, a facade of confidence saving me face, but only a little bit since I was still kind of drunk. “Coquette-ish? Like the frilly bows and Victorian shit?” His voice reverberated is low bass over the air. I watched his mouth and nose as he repeated what I had said, then nodded. He nodded along and choked down a chuckle.

Mingi drew up a tiny little design, detailed with a small, pink ribbon tied into a bow with a pearl accent. It was actually very cute and even my sober mind loved it. Something tiny and coquettish. I was so happy with it.

“You know I don’t usually do walk ins.” He said as he etched a stencil. “Oh? Why start tonight?” I asked, looking over his shoulder, feeling the heat rising from his body. “If I’m being honest I thought you were cute. And I’d rather you get a good drunk tattoo instead of one you’ll regret.” He chuckled lightly, but my face turned red at the mention of his attraction. He thought I was cute? “Now where do you want it?” Mingi asked as he turned to look at me, now just inches from my face. I had practically been his shell for the last 15 minutes as I watched him sketch, so the sudden movement surprised me. I stumbled backwards a bit, and was sure to fall of Mingi hadn’t gripped onto my belt, pulling me back to stability. His hand was nestled between our two bodies, now practically sandwiched together. I couldn’t help myself as the moment dragged on, but I looked forward at the chest I was now level with. Traveling upwards, my eyes met his. They pooled with a twinge of worry and one other emotion I couldn’t quite express. “Sorry,” I mumbled briefly as I stepped back, only for his hand to stay firm on my leather belt. “No, no it’s okay. Are you alright?” He questioned, unmoving from his position. “Y-yes I’m fine.”

The air was thick and heavy around us. The room wasn’t too big so that might have had something to do with it, but probably not. It was more likely the tension between us that simmered. His hand stayed on my belt, even going as far as to tighten his grip. “How drub are you?” He asks suddenly.

“I’m, I’m practically sober.” I answered.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“N-no I don’t.”

“Do you know where you are right now?”

“Tattoo shop.”

“Be more specific.” He hummed lowly as his hand pulled me closer, my hip flush against his thigh.

“Flaming Ink, downtown Astoria,” I answered again, quieter than before.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked finally, lowering himself to my level so he could see my expression clearly. My face was burning as it was, so for him to face me directly turned me to mush. And to kiss him? Oh fuck I could’ve vomited with how nervous I was!

I nodded slowly as the larger man braced my jaw in his palm, gently pulling me forward and pressing a hunger pained kiss to my lips. I was taken aback by the way he was already desperate for the contact. To be fair, so was I. The kiss only lasted about 3 seconds before he pulled away, lips parted and eyes droopy. The flecks of his dyed hair fell into his line of sight. The image in front of me was borderline erotic to say the least. I could tell by the look in his eyes that we were nowhere near finished.

Hastily, my arms found perch on his shoulders and I reconnected our lips, lapping at the pillowy petals and melting as he returned the favor. He tugged me closer, hands finally leaving my belt and landing on my waist, pulling my hips to his own. This was all too much yet I couldn’t (wouldn’t) stop myself. I had only wanted him for an hour or so, but that was an hour too long with out him.

Our lip lock progressed into something else entirely, and what that was I didn’t know. Something primal. Something languid and wet. Before I could count his teeth with my tongue, his hands were burrowed down the back of my jeans, fingers gripping at my ass haphazardly. The hum of the overhead lights was enough of a lullaby to keep us in the moment. Soft murmurs from the radio entwined around us and took the lead. “Mingi,” I said hushly, placing a hand on his chest. Oh finally I got to feel it. The muscles tensed under my touch and I watched the nipple harden from under the shirt. “Hm?” He acknowledged my plea and stopped himself. “I’m sorry it was all so fast, I-“ he began to explain himself, hands leaving my behind.

“No, no keep it there. I’m just— kinda you know, worked up.” I heaved as I kept eye contact with him. Those eyes, those honey brown eyes. Somehow the orange and yellow tendrils of hair complimented his eyes perfectly, encasing them in a warm, golden light. He was beautiful.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” His breath fans over neck slightly.

“Yeah, just not used to it.” I admit.

As far as sexual experiences went, I was dim in the subject. Yet, this was fueling a fire I never knew I had.

“Do you wanna stop?” Mingi asks as he’s pulling away.

“No! No I don’t want to!”

With that answer, Mingi was back to exploring what was exposed of my skin. Hands, finger tips, nails. I could feel everything as he lit each of my nerve endings on fire. Each swipe of his tongue left a burning trail in its path. “Fuck-“ I whispered internally, somehow finding my hands curled in his hair, entangling in the locks and pulling at the roots. The feeling of his lips on my neck made my stomach turn and twist with excitement.

How could this happen so fast? How was this really real? Was I dreaming?

No I couldn’t be dreaming. I could feel Mingi’s curious hands pushing up my shirt, folding the fabric upwards and letting it pool onto top of my breasts. Mingi pressed open mouthed kissed on my chest, tugging cheekily at the lining of my bra, teasing the nipple as he let it free. “Pretty.” Mingi’s voice vibrated against my skin, sending shivers down my entire being. Never in a hundred years could I explain myself and my behavior. I hadn’t been this kind of girl. Sure I partied and went a little crazy sometimes, but I had been strict with dating and sex. I never fucked on a first date. Hell, we had just met, never even went out. Renel would never believe me if I told her what was happening.

My brain was fuzzy as we continued in some sort of soft foreplay. His thick fingers had found their way down the front of my jeans, rubbing generously on my stiffening clit and entrance. My breath hitched as one found its way inside of me, petting at the spongy g-spot. I couldn’t keep my knees from buckling under that sort of pressure. I remembered stumbling around in an attempt to find something solid to hold onto, or at least steady myself on as he rid me of my clothes. I could remember removing his skin tight shirt and finally getting an eyeful of his sculptured physique. He was carved artfully as if by a woman with taste and experience. My hands explored his torso, slowly but surely making their way down my boxers. I ran a polished nail down the shaft of his throbbing cock, only to grab the entirety and grace it with a few passing pumps. His belt and jeans found themselves on the floor along with mine.

I had no time to feel the inevitable embarrassment. “Mingi-“ I moaned as he took the initiative to set me on the table, lips now working down my stomach and hips. A strong hand pushed gently on my chest and gestured for me to lay back and I followed with no hesitation. The icy sensation of the vinyl coating made me shiver, but I recovered as soon as his fingers hooked to the hem of my panties. My breathe caught in my throat, Mingi dragging the garment down my legs and letting them fall where they may.

“You’re sure you’re good with this?” He asked once more, looking down at me from his standing position. His eyes were soft and concerned but I could tell he was barely hanging on. His lids sat halfway across his iris, cutting off the light to his eyes. He looked dark and sexy, but alluring. The tattoos that weren’t apparent earlier were now proudly on display.

I only reeled back slightly at the sight of his miniature. Well, you could hardly call it miniature, but you know what I meant. The dick held itself proudly, the tip a dark pink and mushroomed, while the rod was stained a lighter hue, coursing with a few deliciously placed veins.

With as tender of intentions as possible, I reached to caress the decorated man’s chest and feel the heat emitting from the skin. He was as soft as satin, the feeling becoming addictive against my fingertips. His hands traveled to meet mine, bringing the appendage to his lips and leaving a few short kisses on the palm before holding it above my head. Our fingers intertwined as his other hand cradled the soft underside of my knee, pushing it upwards.

“I’m sure.” I said finally, eyes meeting his and he came closer, pressing gentle and reassuring kisses to my cheek and neck.

“Good,” he hummed.

Another blurry moment flashed as he said a few sweet things then continued to move his body. Soon enough I was in a comfortable position with a hand in his and one helping him push inside. My head fell backward as a silent sigh left my lips. Oh shit. “Oh Mingi-“ the words fell fluidly as he breached past my entrance. The stretch alone brought me back to reality, only to be pulled back into whatever sensual scene this was as he began to adjust. His breath was low but not indistinguishable, I could tell he was already feeling good. A second or so passed in silence until the pit in my stomach had grown twice it’s normal size.

“You can move.” I say, slight circling my hips. A pained hiss left Mingi’s plump lips. He takes the bottom in between his teeth and nods as his hips break their isolation

I felt as though my lungs had been palpated, deprived of air and squeezed to the brink. I felt like I was drowning but I couldn’t stop this. This was all too good. Mingi moved with a steady rhythm and intensity. His hands roamed my chest, poking and prodding at my breasts and using them for leverage for his powerful thrusts. I almost felt ridiculous as lewd noises leaked from my throat. My body shook with excitement and my voice was shaky with adrenaline.

“So cute. I can’t fucking stand it.” He growled next to my ear as he punctuated each word with a particularly sharp thrust. I couldn’t believe I had come here to accompany Hongjoon on a drunken tattoo venture, and ended up fucking the artist.

His motions grabbed me as wild, someone with experience in pleasure. Mingi’s body was following a natural progression as the bulbous head of his well endowed cock nestled against my cervix with each violent bash of our hips. A slight shake wracked my muscles and joints as the pressure and endurance of our position grew tiresome. I was exhausted but so ready to reach a peak with him. Coils tightened in my abdomen when Mingi’s voice sounded, moans and small grunts of praise echoed from him.

“Fuck-so good-“ he panted into my neck as his body curled around mine, encasing me in a lustful embrace. Mingi’s toned arms wrapped around my shoulders and waist while his forehead dropped to my collarbone. I could feel the change in angles as he hoisted my torso upwards to meet his, somewhat suspended in air. The erratic pace and movements of his hips reminded me of some crazed animal in heat. I felt the same way though. My body was craving each and every thing Mingi would give to me. His now harsh grips left marks on my skin that I wild find later; they’d bring back me memories of this night and how desperately I would be chasing a feeling like this again.

Creaks and screeches wailed from the legs of the table, yet Mingi couldn’t have cared any less. My arms gripped around his waist, in a way, propelling him forward. “Mingi!” My voice grew weaker in the moment. I was coming close.

“Mmm- fuck…” Mingi groaned against my skin, lips flattening to my chest and hair falling messily over my shoulder. I let my body speak for me as the intensity of his movements and brought me higher and higher. My walls closed around him, clenching in an effort to warn him that I was there. “Mingi! Uh! Gonna cum-“ I moan directly into the man’s ear, hoping to affect him the way I wanted to. “Mm- go ahead baby. You can cum.” His breath was hot as he lifted his head to face me, pressing a kiss to my lips as he quickened his pace. I couldn’t stop the chorus of moans, colored in shock as he pushed me over the edge.

I lay in waves of bliss. One surge after the other. If I was being honest, I had never cum first in any of my previous encounters. This was a once in a lifetime experience for me and I wasn’t going to lie, it was beautiful.

Mingi stalls briefly before sighing in satisfaction as he pulls out of me. My body immediately misses the weight of him inside of me, closing around nothing but air and slick ejaculat. My chest is heaving as I caught my breath, warm fuzzy feelings filling my body. Never had I ever had an orgasm quite like that.

It was soon interrupted at the sound of Mingi’s hand sliding over his still hard erection. I had been so caught up in my own pleasure that I forgot that he hadn’t cum yet. I peak downward at the beautiful man, his face scrunched a bit as he leans over my body. Without much thought I place my smaller hand in his. I can see a smirk forming on his lips as he allows me to help him rub his moistened dick. His eyes open slightly as we make contact, gazes holding intently as waves of pleasure flood his system. I never break eye contact as he reaches his final breath, our hands slow and a loud cry erupts from the man.

“Oh shit- oh fuck-“ Mingi mumbles quietly, forehead nudged to mine as he unloads on my stomach. I was quick to find Mingi’s jaw and yank his sight forward, our eyes meeting once again. “You’re so pretty.” I kiss him before he can answer my statement.

“Me?” He huffs confused. His string brow bone dips in concern of the comment. “Yes, you. You’re very pretty.” I reply, pulling him in for another kiss. “Thank you.” He says genuinely as heaves and tries to catch his breath.

——

“Soooo…. Do you still want that tattoo?” Mingi jokes as he holds the collar of my shirt open above me, placing it down over my head and resting it on my shoulders.

“I might have to take a rain check on that. I’m kinda tired.” My voice was hoarse and losing volume by the minute. A mix of drinking and calling his name for an hour would do the trick.

“Anytime, really. I do actually do tattoos. I swear. I’m not just a whore.” He laughs, looking down at me as I finish dressing myself and heave a sigh.

“I believe you.”

“Good. Do you think you’ll be back?” He questioned, flicking the light switch and opening the door for me. It was almost 5 am and I had no alibi for when Renel inevitably asks what kept me out so late. My cheeks flushed as I thought over the details. I might just tell her, just to see her reaction. If I knew anything about Renel, it was that she’d flip if I told her I fucked the tattoo guy.

“I’ll be back. For that tattoo and also… you know, if you ever wanna…” I led the the statement, looking down at my hands as he walked along side me towards the dorms. “I’m down. You know for tattoos… and… yeah.” He agreed. It was barely dawn, but I could tell his cheeks were as red as mine.

As soon as we reached my dormitory, I turned to face the man who had just made my night. I craned my neck upwards to face him. Gosh he was beautiful, especially in the light of the rising sun. “Thank you so much for tonight Mingi. And for walking me home.”

“Of course. Anytime, really. Have a good night.” He said gently.

“Or I guess morning. Have a Good morning.” He repeated. I chuckled slightly, placing a hand on his chest gingerly and pushing myself to stand on my tiptoes. I was hoping Mingi would get the idea and thankfully he did. His strong hands embraced me one last time as we shared a kiss. Nothing lustful or suggestive. A light, sweet, tender kiss.

“Have a good morning Mingi.” I said finally as we broke the kiss and I ran off towards the dorm doors.

“Tell me EVERYTHING!” A shrill voice echoed throughout the whole room as Renel surprised me at the door. My heart nearly burst out of my chest.

“Girl, sit down. You’re gonna love this!”

~The End~

#SoundCloud #song mingi #mingi #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez x reader #Ateez tattoo #Mingi’s a tattoo artist #fanfiction #smut #mingi smut #song Mingi smut #the song of from Alpha I’m sorry but I just really love this song for sexy situations I can’t help it #it’s just sex #fluffy #this is really only for Lisa

[piosplayhouse]

Niche fandom happenings to take your mind after whatever stuffs happening in your fandom:

So as you can probably deduce, the model horse collecting hobby is made up mostly of older people. The hobby has been well established since the dawn of the Internet and I've talked a few times about how it's difficult to find some older resources about it/its history because of how every other link you click on which used to lead to a hobbyist artist's angelfire blog now is just a dead link or worse, bought out by some ad company sitting on the URL. Up until recently, a huge portion of hobby talk still relied on now-defunct Yahoo groups; now most have moved to either forums like Model Horse Blab or private Facebook groups. Individually most of these are pretty decentralized, but since model collecting by nature is a hobby that requires a significant amount of financial interaction (buying, trading, selling, commissioning, etc.), there has to be some kind of centralized marketplace for people to pitch their goods to as many corners of the hobby as possible.

Enter Model Horse Sales Pages (MH$P), a, well, site where people can post sales pages for model horses and accessories. It's an old fashioned sales pages site from the 2000s with a somewhat shitty layout but unparalleled detailed search functions-- to order things from a seller, you'd have to personally email them to negotiate for their listing. Though this seems somewhat inconvenient to our modern senses used to one click payments and speedy delivery, MH$P is undoubtedly a pillar of the model horse community.

... So that's why people are scrambling as it's allegedly been hacked and taken down for the foreseeable future. Worrying about personal information aside, now fans are left to wonder: what's the alternative? Well, the first one is of course eBay, which many hobbyists already use. However, eBay is obviously less catered to model horse hobbyists and is therefore a bit harder to search if you're deep in the hobby and can't be assed to look through 4000 "plastic horse" titled listings to find the 2008 SR glossy xX Devilish Girlfriend++ Thoroughbred you want. MH$P occupied a specific niche for long time fans looking for grails.

So what are our alternatives for people in the hobby looking to buy from others in the hobby? Well, there's a few decentralized official dealers like Chelsea's Model Horses or Triple Mountain who you can consign older models to, but going through a middleman takes time and you have much less freedom in your personal listings. Alternatively, you could go grassroots and post listings in Facebook groups and on forums, but those have reaches limited to the members of those specific, often small, groups, and it can be hard to move stock that way. So now people are looking for a backup marketplace platform, both for the current situation and longtime health of the hobby. But imagine my surprise when I went on Model Horse Blab and saw people suggesting an alternative site kickstarted by

STAR STABLE ONLINE YOUTUBER DENIS/DENISE WISESTORM. Denis has been a controversial figure in the SSO fandom (though there's pretty much no uncontroversial ssotubers especially on ssoblr because clickbaiting and weird reactionary takes are like the bread and butter of that side of the fandom) who's been called out for having some alt-right homophobic views in the past, as well as for his abject and unproductive negativity towards improvements made on the game. He's a lps customizer and pretty prolific breyer collector, though, so his drive to create a model trading and selling platform makes sense at least. But still! Why him!!!!!!

#breyer #ssoblr

[gabessquishytum]

Hob is a former escort, now a permanent ornament to some rich guy (you know what, let’s say burgess). Orphaned at an early age, hob has never known another way of life, other than scraping by using what he can. And often that’s been his body.

At least with burgess he knows where his meals are coming from and he knows what to expect and how to please him. he knows burgess isn’t going to share him around or hurt him. But he’s very jaded about love.

Enter poet dream. Dream is an aspiring writer who grew up pretty sheltered. This is a dream who’s never been heart broken, or lost a son, who believes in true love and the moment he sees hob, he feels it.

Maybe burgess is trying to court Dream’s sister, death. Death isn’t into it but it does get them invited to a party at burgess’ estate. and that’s where Dream first meets hob.

Hob is getting towed around by burgess, wearing clothes picked for him, laughing at all the right times, while being very clearly bored. Enamored with his beautiful brown eyes, Dream follows him around the party, heart pounding in his ears. And when burgess is distracted, Dream takes his chance. He introduces himself to hob and in the same breath tells him that he’s never seen anyone look so lovely or so lonely.

Hob just laughs, charmed despite himself. But they talk, secluded on a balcony all night. Hob finds himself opening up about his life, about how he is tired of being used by the highest bidder, about how he always wanted more for himself but has stopped believing it’s possible. And dream recites his poems for him and tells hob about how he’s always dreamed of meeting someone he could talk to, just like this. They both marvel at how different their lives have been, despite being about the same age. Finally, they kiss under the moonlight. Dream begs hob to leave burgess and run away with him. But hob hesitates. Dream is a penniless artist. And burgess might be old but he’s a dangerous man. Hob knows he wouldn’t just let hob go without consequences.

But does he dare? For the first time in a long time, hob is starting to hope again.

Escort Hob and soft poet Dream... oh they're a match made in heaven. I love them.

Hob wants to believe that he can have more than this life. He's tired physically, and tired of being disrespected too. It's all very well knowing that he's got food and a roof over his head, but he really doesn't feel safe. Maybe starving in a shitty flat with Dream would be the better alternative, as at least he'd feel loved. Dream keeps sending him letters with these amazing poems in them and every time, Hob feels a bit of his broken heart coming back together.

He asks politely for Burgess to accept his "resignation", but that goes about as well as you might expect. Burgess isn't prepared to let an asset like Hob get away.

The thing is, Hob grew up on the streets. He's dangerous too, even if he pretends not to be. And an old man is still an old man. Sock him in the jaw once and he'll keel right over. Hob empties the safe in the office and gets the hell out of there.

He shows up at Dream’s flat with bruised knuckles, a bag of cash, and a willingness to make it work. They really don't have time, since Hob is pretty sure he's not going to just get away with stealing from Burgess. But Dream pins Hob to the door with soft, adoring hands and kisses him until theyre both lightheaded. That night, Dream just holds him. Doesn't ask for anything more. He seems entirely happy just to have Hob in his arms.

And really Hob is still far from being safe. His future is totally uncertain. But there's Dream, and poetry, and a bag of Burgess's dirty cash. Its a start towards a better life. That's for sure.

#the sandman #dreamling #nsft

[babbymochiiii]

ON MY YOUTH: TEN LEE

↪︎pairing: idol! ten x ngs! reader ft. xiaojun

↪︎genre: angst

↪︎warnings: crying, conflicted feelings, minor yelling, confronting on ten's bs, break up, more crying, just angst after more angst

↪︎synopsis: you’ve noticed ten has been weird ever since his recent comeback, and with one text message it confirmed everything. But you weren’t going to let him do that to you through the phone so you confront him in person.

↪︎word count: 1.9k words

link to part 2 🧡

✨note: this fic is very much inspired by On My Youth by WayV…this song put me through all sorts of stages when I heard the English ver. 😭 idk about y’all but I felt like I was going through some sort of emotional breakdown 💀 but it inspire this fic so we gucci :P anyways, enjoy! 🧡

divider credit @plutism 🖤

We should stop seeing each other.  

It was already a shitty day as it was due to work going south with the boss yelling at everyone, including you, and it was pouring rain as you walked home as you forgot completely about the umbrella waiting at the front door.  

But this...this takes everything by the win.  

You of course felt pure rage at the fact this was the way he decided to end things with you, coping the fuck out, but you weren’t about to be disrespected like this especially when you knew that this was going to happen. Ever since he left to do some small concerts and with his most recent comeback, he’s been distant and acting like you didn’t exist at all. You had your suspicions and mentally prepared yourself for the day but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt you still.  

You looked at the time on your phone and knew that you would find him in the practice room here and his members had reserved at this time. So, that’s where you find your feet taking you.  

Once you reached the floor where you knew the majority of the big practice rooms were at, you walked down the hall straining your ears as much as you could so you could hear WayV’s music against the other SM artists. As you walked a little further down, you could hear WayV’s newest song blasting through the speakers. You picked up your pace slightly until you were at front of the practice room door. As you were in front of the door, you tried to control the heavy breathing as you took hold of the door handle. With one last breath, you opened the door. 

Inside, you met with the members of WayV and staff members recording one of their dance practice videos.  Through the reflection of the mirror, you could see Ten in the middle of the formation dancing passionately as he always has. You feel mesmerized by the way he dances so fluidly and with such precision. It was one of many things you fell in love with Ten.  

Ten caught your gaze in the mirror which causes him to stumble in one of the moves and for Xiaojun to bump into him.  

“Ten? You okay?” Xiaojun asked as he looked towards Ten, who looked like he’s seen a ghost. Xiaojun followed his gaze and saw your trembling form standing by the doorway. “Oh.” He said softly.  

At this moment, all the staff members and WayV looked between you and Ten. The couple of staff members that had the cameras rolling stopped recording and lowered the camera.  

“Can we talk?” You shakingly asked while maintaining eye contact with Ten through the mirror. Cursing to yourself internally for not holding onto whatever confidence you had left.  

“I guess.” Ten said lowly with a shrug.  

“Why don’t we all take a break and give them space?” WayV’s manager said with a gently clap of his hands as he gave everyone a straight smile. He eyed the two of you as everyone else walked out of the room before he followed them, closing the door behind them. 

“What are you doing here?” Ten asks with a sigh as he looks anywhere else but directly towards you.  

“Don’t act like you don’t know.” You almost practically whine as you started to feel all the emotions you were suppressing rise up to the surface, considering you never knew how to hide how you felt from Ten.  

“Look, I don’t have the time to be playing your guessing game here.” Ten said with an eye roll as he finally looked towards you.  

You bit down on your bottom lip to the point where you almost drew blood. You dug into your bag for your phone and pulled up the text message he sent you a couple of hours ago, that you only saw on the way out from work.  

“Oh, that.” Ten said with a flat tone.  

A scoff leaves your lips as you brought your hand down and tightly gripped at your phone. “Yes that." you mimicked as you tried to control your breathing.  

“So, what about it then?”  

You stared at Ten and really tried to understand what was happening here. How can he be acting like this? After everything… “‘What about it then?’ Ten are you that fucking dense?” You asked as you looked at him with a frown on your face.  

“I said what I said okay.” Ten says as he turns around and grabs his water bottle from the floor.  

“Ten, really? Like are you really going to be like this?” You questioned as you felt your eyebrows crease close together.  

“I honestly have no clue what you’re talking about.” he said with a careless shrug as he took a swing of his water bottle.  

“For God’s sake Ten! Talk to me!” You raised your voice as you started to walk on a thin line of patience with him.  

With a roll of his eyes, Ten looked at you with an eyebrow raised as he waited for you to speak.  

You stared at him with watery eyes as you felt all the bewilderment fall on top of your shoulders. You couldn’t understand why this has to happen now, not after everything you’ve been through with him. The more you look at Ten the more you get truly lost at who this person is in front of you.  

“Why?”  

Ten stared at you for another beat before he looked down at his feet with a sigh.  “Because it’s not fair.” He said as he continued to stare at his feet like it's the most interesting thing in the world.  

“Not fair?” you questioned back to him as you started to feel something within you turn in anger. As if you needed something more to add to the already fire induced anger inside of you.  

“I just don’t find it fair that I basically get to live a life while you stay home and wait for me.” Ten said without missing a beat and looked at you with a straight face.  

It was quite a blow... you admit, you weren’t expecting that to be his answer, but the pure anger and stressed feelings consumed your whole body, leaving you to feel overall exhausted at this point.  

“Ten—” you sighed out as you closed your eyes tightly trying to understand everything that’s happening right now. “— you know very well that I was content like that. I was happy to wait for you to come home and spend time with you...why are you making this an issue now?”   

“It just hurts my pride.” He says with a shrug. 

“Your pride? Ten please, that’s such a fucking cop out.” You told you as you truly started to feel the weight of everything fall on your shoulder as you knew that this was it...truly the end of it all.  

Silence wrapped around the two of you in the most gut-wrenching tension as you both just looked at one another. Each waiting to see what the other will say.  

With a defeated sigh, you looked down at your feet with your eyes closed trying your hardest to not let the threatening tears escape. You weren’t going to let him do this to you.  

“Two years...” You told him softly as you looked up and looked at him with a small smile and with tears pooling in your eyes. “Two years I have been so happy with you. We were happy. I love you so much that right now I wish I didn’t because it hurts Ten. It hurts too much.” you said with a dry chuckle as you started to feel your throat tightening and forming a lump in your throat as you started to feel everything wanting to discompose from within you.  

“I gave you so much Ten. So much. But you used me — used me till the last drop. I’m burnt out at this point.” you said as one tear fell out of your eye and created a wet trail down your cheek.  

Ten stared at you with slightly wide eyes, not truly believing that this is happening right now. Yes, he wanted to end things...but he didn’t know you’ve been feeling like this. Genuinely, he thought it would be how it has been lately. He would do something that would upset you, and you forgive him but that isn’t happening this time around. Ten felt himself start to panic internally as he looked at you slowly lose your composure in front of him.  

“No amount of sorrys is going to fix what you just broke Ten. None of your lies are going to sugar coat this and make me “forget” everything you have done to me for the past months Ten...none of it. You fed me so much bullshit lately and you completely lost me.” you said with a sad laugh. “Knowing you, you’re probably gonna say something along the line that we’re too young and that you want to focus on your career.” you said as you watched Ten’s reaction.  

You saw the way Ten sucked in a breath and how his cheeks turned a light pink as he continued to look at you with wide eyes.  

“I knew it. So much bullshit Ten.” you said as you felt more tears falling down your face. “This is where we officially end things, yeah.” you softly said as you tried to hold in the rest of the tears as you turned around, starting to make your way to the dance practice room.  

“Wait—” 

“No Ten. This is what you wanted, right? I’m just making this easier for you, so you don’t have to keep lying to me.” you said with one last glance towards Ten’s figure. You swear you can see a tear fall down his face but you turned your face away quickly so you wouldn’t lose what’s left of your composure.  

“Goodbye Ten.” you gave your final goodbye to Ten before you turned the doorknob and walked out of the room with tiny pieces of what used to be your heart inside of your chest.  

Months have passed since that day you confronted and ended things with Ten.  

You kept some small tabs on him here and there whenever fans would post about WAYV and their group or solo activities. This time though, you’ve noticed that they have come out with a new English version of one of their songs in their latest album.  

Curious, you clicked the link that took you to YouTube, and started to play out the video for the song. Hearing the song for the first time and listening to the lyrics brought back those painful memories as you could hear the hurt in Ten’s voice as he sang his parts.  

You looked at the song title as tears landed on your phone screen. 

On My Youth... 

A sad, watery smile formed on your face as you continued to listen to the song, and you couldn’t help but feel the need to miss him. You know you shouldn’t, but it was a two-year relationship that Ten decided to throw out with one stupid text.  

As the song came to an end, you felt your chest rake with heavy breathing as you continued to quietly sob into your hands. While you used the sleeves of your sweater to clean the tears off of your face, there was a knock at the door.  

Slowly getting up, you made your way to the door.  

You stood at the other end of the door still with your chest rising and falling rapidly. Just as you reached for the doorknob, Ten’s voice was heard on the other side.  

“Can we talk?”

Thank you for reading!!! 🖤 hopefully you guys enjoyed this story! I haven’t written angst in a good while and it took me awhile to get a crack in this story ✋🏼💀

Should I make a part 2? 🧐 lemme know in the comments/in my ask what you think! Should we see y/n and ten talk to one another or just leave it as is?? I’m genuinely curious to see what you guys think! 🖤✨

With much much love from me to you, mochi 🕷️

#nct #nct ten #ten lee #wayv #wayv ten #ten x reader #nct angst #wayv angst #nct x reader #kpop imagines #kpop #kpopidol #kpop angst #angst with a sad ending #breakup #crying #confrontation

[jun-of-love]

Until I Found You - choi seungcheol

genre: fluff, angst, choi seungcheol

pairings: scoups × yn

tw: injuries

words: 1.2k

a/n: i was listening to 'UntiI Found You' by Stephen Sanchez (i'm a basic bitch, leave me alone) and I saw this interview of him saying how he has written the song for his one true love called Georgia and he would never love anyone the same ever again and I just had to write this so..here we go ig :)

header credits: @saythestuff

Seungcheol was tired.

The echoes of fans’ screams on his every move were still ringing in his ears, the adrenaline active in his body. Yet, he felt nothing as he sat in the backseat of his van, which, considering the amount of time he spent in it, was more of a home to him than his apartment. He saw buildings rush by and could only think of how it was so similar to time. Time too, seemed incomprehensible to him when he moved so fast. Seungcheol closed his eyes, and just like routine, a slideshow of his favourite memories began.

It starts with the time he met you for the first time. He was sitting at the counter of his favourite little music instrument shop, where he was lucky to find a job as well. You were in a lilac hoodie, leggings, and ponytail, he remembers it clear as a day. You wandered around looking at instruments for a while, clueless and careful not to touch anything, until you saw the keyboard, which you rushed towards, and played ‘My Heart will Go On’ so perfectly, that Seungcheol almost thought you were trained for several years. It was until you started coming in almost every other day and played the same song every time, he figured out that was the only song you could play. And also, that you were quite tone deaf, and learned this song from sheer will-power.

He had made the first move. Working as a cashier in store, which happens to be the favourite place of quite possibly the cutest girl ever, has its own benefits. You hardly ever bought anything, except for CDs of some niche classical musicians, just sat in the store reading your book or doing some work. Luckily, Seungcheol knew how to enter a girl’s heart – through shitty instant coffee, so that he did. And it worked. Soon enough, you were laughing softly at his jokes, listening to his mixtapes, and manifesting for his dreams.

Seungcheol had underestimated how much love y/n had to give. You came in his life when he was struggling, and stuck to him like superglue through every trial he went through. You shared his mixtapes on every platform possible, made every café you visited play his music, made sure each and every friend and acquaintances of yours had heard his music. You would constantly DM all the artists and famous producers, as if they would read them and give Seungcheol the opportunity of a lifetime. You paid for promoting his music on Instagram- from whatever was left from your stupid copywriting salary after college fees took most of it. Seungcheol promised and swore on the heavens and hell, that he would give his beautiful girlfriend the life of her dreams, where he would fund everything and beyond, she would write as many books as she wanted, and they would live the happiest life a couple could dream of.

It seemed like fate was in his favour. Another day that he remembers as if it was yesterday. It was the weekend and Seungcheol was cooking with you in his apartment. Laughing at how not a single onion was getting properly cut by him, and him arguing that it doesn’t matter if it’s all going to be cooked at the end of the day. The conversation just ended with the stove turned off, and you in his arms. Regardless of how his life was going, his pathetic financial situation, and constant rejection from companies, he felt safe, at home with you in his arms. He felt like everything in the world would work out if you were there with him. And that’s what happened. His phone rang at that moment- it was a famous music production company, wanting to scout him based on his mixtape they heard playing in a café.

Rest was history. He was the S.Coups. You had giggled a little when you heard his work name, but admitted it was cool. Seungcheol got bigger and bigger opportunities. His handsome face went viral, and soon he went from a music producer to a bestselling artist. His once role models were now on his waiting list. Seungcheol felt like it was all a big fluke, and that he didn’t deserve this- but you were right there, with your healing smile- reassuring him that he had it in all this time.

But when one rises up too fast, life has a way of showing the ground, and fame is a bitch. Soon, your relationship was all about him. It was his conveniences, his schedule, his career, his image- yet you were fine with it, as long as he was happy. Seungcheol remembers the horrible day, when you waited for him all day in his apartment to tell him that you had won a writing competition by a publishing house. It was one the big break you were waiting for, and he just came home, dismissing you and falling asleep on the couch because he had drunk too much on a broadcast. He woke up the next day to find himself on the bed, in comfortable clothes and covered in a blanket. It was when he found the tear stained certificate on the table, that he realised how badly he had fucked up. Yet..yet you forgave him without him having to beg for forgiveness. Because you understood. You always did. Seungcheol wondered what your last straw would be, and prayed that he would never see the day it breaks.

Unfortunately, the day came. You had gotten into an accident, leg broken and several small fractures in the body. You had never experienced pain like this before, and only wanted Seungcheol in the room. Yet, he came four hours after he got the news, because he ‘had to’ complete his music show broadcast. This is the day he wishes he could forget. You were covered in bandages, but the pain in your eyes only reflected the pain in your heart. He was on his knees in the hospital room, and you looked at him in complete apathy.

“I have gone through too much because of you. I cannot take it anymore. You don’t have to do anything, I will remove myself from your life. You will not see me again.”

Seungcheol felt like his life had been taken out from him. He begged and groveled, promised to leave his career, sent thousands of flowers and gifts, wrote multiple letters- only to find them in the trash the next day. He kept persisting, until one day you just left, with no trace of where you were going. Just gone.

As if on cue, his van stopped rather harshly. “Sir, we’re here.” His driver woke him up. As he regained his senses, Seungcheol noticed the book he had been holding tightly all this time. Fifth one in the popular series written by y/n, the name adorned on it in calligraphy. He opened the first page, and the words on it broke his heart into a million pieces.

“To my husband Joshua, thank you for always being there for me.”

Maybe in the next life. He will find you and love you like you deserve. The next life.

#charity-writes #seventeen #choi seungcheol #scoups #kpop seventeen #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen headcanons #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #scoups drabble #seungcheol #scoups fanfiction #kpop imagines #kpop fluff #kpop fanfiction #kpop boys #kpop idols #caratblr #jeonghan #moon junhui #hoshi #seungkwan #mingyu #wonwoo #woozi #dino #lee chan #xu minghao

[kitthepurplepotato]

Part 11 / This Wedding Sucks.

Summary: Mr. Katsuki goes to Denki’s wedding and gets drunk (and sappy). Things get weird. Mr. Katsuki does NOT want to kiss the Menace. Kirishima almost looses his poor balls. This summary does not make sense but neither is the chapter. Author went all deep and shit on this one. She’s not sorry.

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, drunk Bakugou, swear words, suggestive

First Chapter 💥 Masterlist

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“Wow, this is…”

You are not sure how to describe this wedding hall.

One thing for sure, this place was re-designed especially for this occasion; Who the actual fuck would want such an obnoxious piece of furniture at their wedding?! This massive, expensive looking sofa has leopard print on it, the legs are pure gold and if that’s not enough, the whole shape of it looks like they have stolen it from a porn film set or something.

Otherwise, the place looks super fancy; the main color theme is black and white with a hint of golden all over the place; the door knobs, the accents, they are all shiny and expensive looking.

The other weird thing is the music; instead of the usual classical music, your ears are met with the sound of acoustic guitars. It’s sophisticated, but… different. You will definitely ask about the artist, just in case you ever get lucky enough to find an idiot who can tolerate you enough to spend the rest of their life with a lunatic like you.

“This is the bougiest shit I’ve ever seen.” Mr. Katsuki finishes your sentence, and honestly, he is not wrong; Kaminari Denki might not be the worst payed hero in the industry, but he’s definitely far off from being a millionaire and this place is way past his pay grade.

“How did he pay for this?” You ask the question of the century; and for your surprise, there is a really easy answer for it.

“Denki saved the owner’s son a few years ago.” Kirishima butts into the conversation. “They only need to pay for the catering.” He laughs and makes his way into the main hall.

“If there’s no caviar on the menu, I’m leaving.” Murmurs the angry blonde and stomps over to his seat.

“Jealous much?” You snicker and sit down next to him.

“Tch, why would I be jealous? This is a joke.”

“Yeah, it’s a bit too much for my liking.” You agree while you sip on your champagne.

Mr. Katsuki looks exceptionally hot today, you need to say. He’s wearing a black tailored suit with a dark red, super skinny shirt which doesn’t leave much for the imagination; his tie is loose which gives him a look of a rebellious teenager who doesn’t want to dress up but tries his best to fit in anyway. Having such a shitty personality in this godlike body is such a waste.

After the hall gets filled with heroes and family members, the event is about to start; sappy guitar music fills the hall as the couple of the day walks down the aisle.

“Whoever cries first need to chug down a bottle of vodka.” Mr. Katsuki smirks at you and the others, but his words are met with eye rolls and shush sounds. “This is not fun.” He sighs with a massive scowl on his face.

“I’m in.” You whisper into the blonde’s ears; he can barely hide his challenging smile as he leans back on his chair.

Honestly, you are not a big fan of weddings. You will never understand why would anyone pay so much money just to exchange some words and a bloody ring. Also, you’ve never been at a wedding before.

As the ceremony goes, you kind of start to understand the whole thing though; even you tear up by the end of the ceremony.

“If you cry…” Mr. Katsuki whispers in your ear in a deep voice, and damn if that doesn’t do “things” to you. He also smells really nice up close.

Ahh, fuck. Since you met that fucking Bakugou doppelgänger you’ve been having confusing feelings towards this person next to you. It’s not like he’s the same person. Get your shit together, woman.

“I almost lost, dammit.” You grin at him, tears long gone and the closeness feels weirdly comfortable. He’s literally in front of your face, yet you don’t feel threatened. It’s just two wedding-hating idiots having a banter in the middle of the ceremony. No biggie.

“I bet that’s his girlfriend.” Comes a loud whisper from a pink haired girl behind you, her name is Mina if you remember it right.

“I bet he’s secretly gay.” Comes another whisper from a black haired guy. Bakugou called him soy sauce face, but you are quite sure that’s not his real name.

“You are both wrong.” You turn to them with a mischievous smile on your face and the two start giggling like two teenagers; it’s not like you actually now if Bakugou sways that way or not, but even if he does you are quite sure he doesn’t want anyone to know that.

“Guys, behave!” Comes Deku’s high voice from somewhere behind the two, so you turn back with a roll of your eyes.

“It’s really not fun.” You sigh and turn back to main event; you can’t wait until this shit is over. This dress is really uncomfortable.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Bakugou Katsuki did not get to eat caviar today.

Also, this fucking afterparty sucks.

Everyone wants to talk to him. Everyone. Even the heroes he has never met in his goddamn life want to talk to him about the shitty weather.

Can’t they at least try to make a proper conversation? This is an absolute waste of time.

“If another extra comes over to tell me about the current stocks, I’ll catapult out of here through the window.” He grumbles to no one in particular, and to be fair, non of his friends care about him today anyway; they are all having fun and dancing while he’s stuck on the sofa with a bottle of champagne he’s stolen from the dining room after the hundredth small talk he had to suffer through.

He did such a good job in hiding from all the extras that he ended up alone in the far corner of the room, overlooking all the cheery people on the dance floor while drinking himself into a “sensitive bitch”.

He can’t take alcohol too well, okay?! Especially champagne and wine, but there isn’t anything else.

And now, after half of the bottle being gone, he is a little bit lonely, but not lonely enough to move from his comfortable hiding place.

His eyes wonder around the dance floor; he can see the Menace dancing with Kirishima in her motherfucking fancy dress; she works in unisex hoodies and massive boots, so this is the first time Katsuki realizes how stunning the Menace actually looks like behind all the oversized stuff she’s wearing. She did wear a skirt on her first day, now that Katsuki thinks about it, but he wasn’t really interested in her enough to take a good look back then; not like he’s interested now. He’s absolutely not.

There was also the fight two days ago when the Menace kicked his ass in a tiny sports bra but he was too angry to actually appreciate the view; not like he’s sad about it or anything. As he said, he doesn’t like the Menace that way.

He’s just… not blind.

Thanks to his drunk ass self, his staring got noticed by the demon itself and she’s coming over with a fond smile on her face.

Fuck.

Oh, fuck.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

While you enjoyed meeting all these new people, you couldn’t take your mind off your anti-social boss, especially after he disappeared into thin air in the middle of the after party.

Did he kill someone and fled the scene? He looked super intense and constipated the last time you saw him talking to a random guy. The fella looked super annoying and loud, and to be fair, you would have killed him too. You are just about to finish the conversation and look for Bakugou in case he needs help in hiding the body when you find his crimson eyes staring at you from the far corner of the hall, his face emotionless and bored. As you get closer you realize something’s wrong; he isn’t wearing his usual scowl and there is no indication of him being annoyed by your existence as you come closer and closer to his secret hideout.

When you see the bottle of champagne in his hands, you understand why.

Now here you are, face to face with the bane of your existence, and you are willingly sitting down next to him. Damn, things have changed, haven’t they?

“I’m tired. And it’s cold.” You announce, trying your hardest to get comfortable without showing off your favorite panties to the whole world. It’s a challenge, let me tell ya’.

Instead of a proper answer, the blonde takes off his suit jacket, and throws it in your lap in an unfriendly way.

“Put it on. I’m hot anyway.” He grumbles and looks to the other side; there is a slight blush on his cheeks thanks to the alcohol.

“Mind to share your stolen goods with me?” You grin at your companion, who answers you with an eye roll, but shares his drink anyway.

“I hate this so much.” He grumbles again, but this time, he doesn’t shy away from the eye contact. This might be the first time he actually looked into your eyes properly. No one can blame you when your heart skips a beat from the soft, drunk look in his eyes. “Why do people feel like they need to make such a big deal out of their stupid love? It’s not our business, is it?”

You are not sure if he’s jealous or just grumpy, but you do your best to answer as honestly as you can; seeing the amount of booze missing from his bottle, he’s probably drunk enough to be able to have some emotions to understand your answer.

Needless to say, you are extremely excited about this whole situation. Since the alternative universe shenanigans, having a drink with your grumpy boss was on the first place on your bucket list. It’s out of pure curiosity, really; you just want to know if there is any chance the Bakugou you’ve met back then is a part of this Bakugou too.

Since the accident, you’ve been wondering about Katsuki’s real thoughts; the ones hidden behind all the anger and ego. You have a feeling there is so much more to him than the pure aggression he shows to the world.

“They’ve been together for ages. They had their fair share of privacy already. Let them have some fun.” You answer. “This is a new beginning for them. It’s not my cup of tea either, but I think I can understand.” You sigh while you rest your cheeks on the backrest of the sofa. The blonde shuffles to mimic your pose; you are both facing each other now.

“I would never make such a big fuss out of my wedding.” He murmurs, deep in thought. “A small wedding in another country, with only the most important people in my life - the stupid hag, my father, Eijirou, Shitty Deku and Candy Cane face… my teachers, maybe.” He mumbles with a dreamy face; a face that painfully reminds you of the other version of him.

“Am I not invited?” You snuggle closer, the liquid courage in your veins doing a great job at tearing down all your protective walls.

“Do you think you are important enough to be there?” He scrunches his brows, but there is no edge to his voice. It’s an actual question.

“By the time you get married, I might be.” You smile and take the bottle from the blonde’s hands to take another sip. There a slight electricity going through your body as you touch his fingers in the process. “I don’t think I want to get married, to be honest.” You admit with a sigh. “I have impossibly high expectations for my significant other.” You giggle into the small space between you two.

“Like what?” He asks like he actually cares about your answer, and the curious glare makes your heart melt. You wish to be able to see this side of him every day.

“Like… I want my other half to be really close to me. Someone who I can talk to about anything. I also want them to be strong enough to talk back to me when I go overboard. I want them to be able to have an argument with me without stepping back and letting me have everything in my own way.” You are way too deep in your thoughts to realize the blonde snuggled closer. You are also too drunk to realize that your answer isn’t hypothetical anymore; you are describing someone who you already know. “I want them to challenge me every day. Keep me entertained. But I also want them to be able to communicate their feelings towards me, otherwise I’ll always think I’m not good enough.” You sigh and look up at the blonde who’s looking at you with wonder and true interest. You definitely can not ignore the way your heart skipped this time. “What about you?” You ask shyly, but you don’t move back; you can feel Katsuki’s breath on your lips as he answers.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

“What about you?”

Mr. Katsuki is way past his drinking limit; he’s drunk enough to not be able to contain his emotions, and he’s about to burst.

He wants to explode from all the confusing feelings; the way his heart is about to jump out of his rib cage from the closeness; the way he can’t stop snuggling closer and chase the warmth of Y/N’s body, the way he can’t help the shiver going down his spine when he can feel Y/N’s breath on his lips while she talks about her love interests.

For a weird reason, he wants to be that person; he wants to make Y/N’s dreams a reality and the sudden realization scares him deeply; he might be a sensitive drunk but he’s also a honest one; this is him, these are his real feelings coming up to the surface, even though he tried his best to push them under the rug for months. Now, with his emotions up his sleeve, he can’t lie to himself anymore. He will definitely deny everything, even to himself the next day when he sobers up, so this is his only opportunity to come clear.

“I want…”

What does he want? This right here, right now?

He can’t fucking say that.

Being so close to Y/N is extremely… uncomfortable, in a really weird way. His sober self wants to run away, snap this weird connection between them, even if it causes him pain, but his drunk self wants nothing more than to get sucked in by the abyss that’s calling him so desperately; it feels almost unbearable, the way his whole body just reacts to this person in front of him, like he can just mold into this person and be a whole; like the last puzzle piece in a massive picture finally being put in it’s right place.

“I want to feel a connection. I want to be pulled in, I want to feel like being close to someone isn’t a necessity, but the only way for me to finally breathe. I want to feel something that isn’t anger or frustration; find someone who can wash away my anger with a cheesy soft touch. Someone who can turn my fucking world upside down, twist it, untangle it, until I don’t even know who the fuck I am anymore.”

Katsuki is not sure if his words make any sense without seeing the full picture here, but he doesn’t care.

The truth is, Katsuki had his fair share of fooling around back when he was a teen. He forced himself out of his shell, tried everything to be able find out what makes his heart beat faster, but after all the meaningless make out sessions and unappreciated touches, he got to the conclusion that he just doesn’t have a heart.

Instead of a pleasant shiver, his mind was filled with disgust from the soft touches, he felt sick in his stomach when someone tried to caress his cheeks on a bad day, he broke so many hearts on his journey thanks to his inability to love that he decided to give up completely on it.

Bakugou Katsuki has never felt such a strong urge to pull someone closer, like he needs to close the distance, to chase the sweet release of this sudden tension or otherwise, he is going to die. He has never felt his chest this tight from the thought of someone, from the thought of being in someone’s arms; he has never craved the safety of a loving embrace as much as he is craving it now.

“Sounds like this person needs to move mountains to be able to get your attention.” Y/N comments, but there isn’t an edge in her voice when she says that.

“It’s impossible, I know.” He sighs, no offense taken by the harsh words. “No one would ever tolerate me enough to…”

“Kats.” Katsuki’s heart is about the explode by the nickname. He always hated it, hated the whole pet name thing, he wanted to throw up and run away, when anyone in his past ‘relationships’ - if you can call the few weeks of fooling around that - tried to call him anything else but his surname; but for a weird reason, right here, right now, his stomach is filled with butterflies from the sound of it. “There will be someone who will find their way into your heart, you know. You might be rough and angry on a normal day, but there is so much more in there.” Y/N’s hand caresses Katsuki’s chest, and the blonde wants nothing more than to put his hand over it, like a lovesick fool. “You are caring and sweet, always listening to everyone’s problems and trying to help in your own way. It’s a pain in the ass sometimes to understand you, but there is someone in this world who will see all the good things behind the mask you’re wearing. I can see it. I can also tolerate you… well, kinda.” She giggles, her face blushed and embarrassed. Katsuki can’t take this anymore.

“Y/N…” Katsuki leans in, their breaths mingled in the small space between them. Y/N pupils are blown wide from hearing her own name from the blonde’s mouth and also from the sudden closeness, but by the look of it, his presence isn’t unwelcome. “I…” Katsuki’s body moves on it’s own; his hands find their way into the back of Y/N’s head, caressing the soft hair, like it’s the fanciest silk Katsuki has ever touched and Y/N relaxes into his arms like she belongs here, she snuggles her nose to his own in a weird Eskimo kiss and Katsuki can’t stop himself anymore, he leans into the touch; their lips brush for a millisecond, for just enough to get lost in the feeling…

“No, no, no, fuck no” There is a fucking hand pushed in between his and Y/N’s lips, just when he was about to move them. Katsuki looks up at the intruder with murderous intent; Kirishima stares at him, his eyes blown wide, his face slightly mental from the utter embarrassment.

After a few moments, he looks to to other side of the couch; Y/N moved away, her face hot and red from the sudden realization.

This is when the happenings of the past few minutes hits Bakugo like a truck.

Oh.

Fuck.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

5 minutes before

Kirishima doesn’t want to pry.

He really does not.

He is about to come back from a quick toilet break, taking his time looking around the area; it’s such a rare occasion to have everyone together like this these days.

They are all busy, they are all pros, fighting against the evil with their lives on the line. They don’t have time for silly chit-chats and party games anymore; those few hours they have left from their day is usually used for taking care of their loved ones, or to be at the shrink’s office after having a massive meltdown/life crisis.

This is hero life for ya. Not all shit and giggles but shit piled up on another old pile of shit until you suffocate and die.

But don’t worry, you die with a smile on your face. Because you are a fucking hero from the beginning to the end.

No, Kirishima is not depressed. He’s just realistic.

As the redhead sighs into the void, his eyes wondering around the corner, he can’t believe what he’s seeing; Bakugou and Y/N is almost SNUGGLED UP on the sofa hiding in the corner of the hall, giggling and chatting away.

Kirishima has been Bakugou’s best friend for almost a decade, he knows this man as the back of his hands; it only takes him a few seconds to find the almost empty champagne bottle on the floor next to the blonde.

It’s not like he’s absolutely shocked by the scenario; he knew this will be the end game from the first second Y/N came into the office, but something just doesn’t feel right about this; it feels too sudden, too forced.

If this goes the way Kirishima thinks it will; because let’s be honest, he could feel the sexual tension between these two and it’s honestly unbearable at this point; Katsuki will ruin everything the day after, run away like the fool he is. He will run away from the responsibility, from the feelings, from the unnecessary complication that is Love, the second he sobers up.

So Kirishima says farewell to both of his balls as he sneaks closer to the two lovebirds, ready to act as a shield between them when it’s needed.

For his surprise, the conversation is nothing what he expected it to be; instead of shameless flirting his ears are met with reassurance and pure, heartfelt consolation. For a second, he thinks it would nice to just let have their way with each other; as we all know, Kirishima is an absolute softie and he can’t take this away from his explosive friend; he’s been praying every single to day for Bakugou to find someone who can appreciate him for who he is, and his prayers were clearly answered when Y/N came into their lives, even though this whole scenario wouldn’t have been possible a few months ago when the office was nothing but smoke and destruction when the two were in the same room for longer than 5 minutes.

By the end of his monologue the air got filled with tension and sparks; he only closed his eyes for a long second but when he opened them up again, he saw something he will never be able to unsee; the two drunk and emotionally overwhelmed idiots are a millimeter away from kissing each other in front of the whole hero industry.

Kirishima takes a moment to asses the situation.

With the alcohol melting their protective walls away, his two friends finally realized their feelings towards each other and that’s amazing and lovely and cute and Kirishima isn’t at all jealous right now.

But….

If Kirishima let’s this happen, Bakugou will be mortified tomorrow, his non-existent relationship with Y/N will be out in the open before they can properly talk about it, Bakugou will end everything the first second he wakes up to his friend’s stupid messages about his “new girlfriend” and he will never be able to face Y/N again. He will cause Y/N as much pain as he can chase them away; he will break Y/N’s heart into pieces and also his own, out of spite; Katsuki isn’t in deep enough to not run away from all these new feelings yet. It might already be too late, but fuck if Kirishima isn’t the best friend the world has ever seen when he moves his hand between the two just in time to stop their drunk shenanigans.

“No, no, no, fuck no”

Well, that’s a poor choice of words, but he’s freaking the shit out right now.

Can you blame him?

He’s probably about to get castrated by his own best buddy after what he’s done.

They both look like they’ve just woken up from a fever dream, barely knowing what’s happening around them.

Kirishima thanks God for sparing his balls today.

“Katsuki, we are going home.” Declares the redhead, grabbing the blonde’s shoulder to pull him up. “I’m calling you a taxi, Y/N. Please, give me a call when you get home, okay?” Wasted Dynamight on his shoulder and the phone in his hands, he orders 2 taxis on the app.

“Yes, mom.” She swallows loudly, and without a single other word or eye contact Y/N makes her way outside the building. The 2 stumble after her; he wants to make sure she actually takes the taxi and doesn’t wander away to clear her mind in the middle of the night.

“I can’t believe you cockblocked me, you fuck.” Slurs Bakugou, his eyes glaring daggers.

“You’ll thank me later.” He sighs into the void and makes his way to the second taxi after he made sure Y/N took the first one.

They don’t talk at the way home and let me tell you, nothing is scarier than a quiet Bakugou, but in this case, the quiet is a good sign; it means the blonde is willing to give his new feelings a chance; he probably won’t act on them yet, but he won’t ignore them either.

“Thanks, Ei.” Murmurs the blonde as Kirishima helps him to his bed with a bottle of water and an empty bucket ready by his bedside drawer. He puts his phone on charge as well to make sure it doesn’t die on him in case he needs help during the night.

“Thank me by not running away from this. You deserve it, whatever that was.” Answers the redhead with a fond smile on his face.

“Fuck off.” The blonde mumbles, his blushing cheeks safely hidden between his pillows.

Kirishima doesn’t answer, he only laughs.

He’s just happy to be able to be there for his best bud. “I can hear your disgustingly sappy thoughts, shut it. Just stay here for today, it’s late.”

Kirishima doesn’t need to be asked twice; he makes his way to the couch and falls into it face first.

Whatever will tomorrow bring, he’s ready for it.

… Next Chapter!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

*author is silently screaming into a pillow*

Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!💥💚

Taglist: (If you want to be added, just ask!) @ibkg @chuugarettes @lilmaimai @nonomesupposedto @sozainturpal @luleck @notplutos

#mha x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou x self insert #bakugo x you #shenanigansbypurplepotato #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #pro hero dynamight

[davekat-sucks]

I stayed away from the fandom for years. Can you summarize for me how Hussie (and some of his "friends") became such hated figures in this fandom? I know very little about what happened with Sarah Z's video and the drama of homestuck reddit vs kate mitchell

Andrew Hussie and WhatPumpkin had tried to sue Sarah Z for libel because of her critique on the shitty sequel that is Homestuck 2. It didn't help that HS2 was put on a long hiatus since December 25, 2020. He sent her a most unprofessional email like he would. But it wasn't until later on that it was revealed that Homestuck 2 was actually a money laundering scheme by Andrew Hussie to pay off his debts towards Viz Media. He lied to his freelance artists, claiming they are working on the project to help bring the series back to its full glory. The most funny part is that Hussie had tried to pitch Homestuck^2 to Viz Media and they rightfully REJECTED this and told him it was the bad idea. But he didn't listen. Andrew Hussie then decided to leave his name out of Homestuck, any future projects relating to it, including the HIveswap game that he Kickstarted and had misued the money, to live off with his money on IP alone. As for the Homestuck Reddit vs Kate Mitchell, besides the whole fact that Kate Mitchell is controversial for making lots of questionable remarks, takes, and had LITERALLY ADVERTISED HER NUDES ON HER PERSONAL ACCOUNT THAT WAS USED TO TALK TO HOMESTUCK FANS, she and Hussie had found out that Makin, the head of Homestuck Community Reddit and Discord, had created Homestuck.net. Which is an archive site for all things Homestuck media related. From art assets, fan games, music resources, and of course, Patreon exclusive posts for Homestuck^2. It was back in the early 2020s, way before the hiatus and Hussie cutting himself off. Andrew Hussie, Kate Mitchell, and others in WhatPumpkin like Aysha, are upset at them. Thinking they are infringing copyright in preserving some of the lost sprite art and other materials related to the series. There was rumors someone, not sure if it was WhatPumpkin or some random defender of Hussie, had accused Homestuck Community Discord, was sharing CHILD PORN, which was untrue. Andrew Hussie had sent emails to the mods and Makin, requesting the latter step down from his position and let Hussie and WhatPumpkin take control of the Discord. He also asked question about the mods sexuality for the sake of 'gender and sex composition'. Of course by the end, it failed and Makin is still around. I don't think it's been made public on either Twitter or Tumblr, as it is just kept within the Discord server itself. But they had release the email transcripts in a PDF file about all this. Of course, Makin isn't too much of a saint either as he accused the artist (HONE) for 'normalizing' the characters and plagiarizing a fan edit, not realizing who it was that made all the Homestuck Requiem promo art and that it was made WAAAAY before Pesterquest was out and approved by Viz Media themselves. He would then find out who it was and backpedaled, likely not having directly apologizing to HONE. The way I see it is two tards fighting each other. Wanna view the PDF file? (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ I have been meaning to document some of the controversies and drama within the Homestuck series. Be it from Hussie, Whatpumpkin, and any other major incident. From how one Homestuck musician got kicked out for accusing Hussie on mistreatment of his music team to spending $10k on an office in New York to work on Hiveswap, it would be a history of all the things that had happened behind the scenes with evidence to back it up.

#homestuck #homestuck fandom #Dramastuck #Andrew Hussie #WhatPumpkin #What Pumpkin #Kate Mitchell #Aysha U Farah #Homestuck Community #Homestuck Community Discord #Homestuck Community Reddit #Sarah Z #Homestuck2 #HS2 #Homestuck 2 #Homestuck^2 #HS^2 #Homestuck Beyond Canon #Viz Media #HSBC

[hils79]

Hils Watches Mysterious Lotus Casebook - Ep 11

Fang Duobing's reflexes always tuned to keeping Li Lianhua safe, even if it's just from a roll of paper

Of course it was Di Feisheng who threw it. He has to do everything in the most dramatic way possible

He has a degree in architecture

Poor confused puppy

I love that in the last episode Fang Duobing was all 'gentlemen use their words not their fists' but he literally tries to fight Di Feisheng whenever he insults him (which is all the time)

So handy that the people at the next table are talking about the case they're investigating and not their shitty days at work or something

It was bugging me where I recognised him from. He was in Immortal Samsara with Cheng Yi

Well this is about to get awkward

Ehehe

How many times has Cheng Yi worn a wedding dress in the various dramas he's been in? I can think of at least two other occasions. Is it in his contract? Do the people making these dramas think he's just so pretty he needs to wear a wedding dress? I would love to know

Well, that has clearly just awoken something in both of them. @alxina @xantissa you have prior experience. Please tell me you've written or are going to write wedding dress fic

Is that a euphemism for something?

Is that also a euphemism for something?

Edit: A few people were yelling in the notes about Di Feisheng basically holding Li Lianhua's hand and walking him towards the mirror and I totally missed it! But...yes, that is a thing that happened.

I will never get tired of Fang Duobing protecting Li Lianhua even when he just stumbles over a loose rock

Can't wait for Fang Duobing to find out that the dude he pushed into the corpse pond is infamous martial artist Di Feisheng

Love that he's drawn Li Lianhua all smiling and pretty while Di Feisheng looks all grumpy

Aww he threw Li Lianhua's portrait away because he wants Li Lianhua to trust him enough to tell him his secrets on his own

#hils watches #hils watches mysterious lotus casebook #hils watches cdramas #mysterious lotus casebook #cdrama

[expired-monster-craft-smp]

Leon Kennedy headcanons part 2nd

- Due to the lack of control in his life, Leon seeks control in other things such as his diet, his daily routine, weekly schedule, and even what he buys

- Gets paid a lot since he works for the government but rarely uses it

- He literally lives in a shitty and small apartment that isn’t decorated and sleeps on a bare mattress on the floor

- Cannot relax like ever unless he’s alone in his apartment, but he’s close to relaxed if he’s alone with a trusted person like Chris, Claire, Jill, and Rebecca. Hunnigan would be included but they usually only meet to discuss a new mission for Leon

- Doesn’t listen to new music, but will listen to recommendations from friends and new releases from bands/artists he already listens to

- Bro canonically listens to dad rock and metal and was born in the late 70’s so his music taste can be…interesting

- I know a lot of people say that he would have one-night stands or whatever but not only is this man the most awkward person ever and Cannot Pull, he’s also severely paranoid and closed-off around unknown people, drunk and sober. He most likely doesn’t get any action whatsoever

- He’s super sweet towards kids. Just has the biggest soft spot for them and can’t stand to say no to them 99% of the time

- He gives off Midwest energy so bad, he probably spent a significant amount of his childhood living there (if we’re going off his original backstory n shit he probably got moved there while in foster care and remained in that area until he aged out)

- He can’t stand change (autism and desperation for control) and it’s why his hairstyle remains the same. It’s one of the few constants in his life and he physically cannot have his hair in any other style

- He’s an alcoholic in the sense that he’s almost always drinking. He doesn’t really do binge drinking, just a constant flow of alcohol in his system throughout the day

- Dissociates a lot. After Spain, he was stuck in a dissociative episode for over 3 months, just going on autopilot

- Prefers off-brand items over brand names, mostly due to growing up without a lot of money. It’s more comforting

- Hates being dirty or smelling bad. He showers religiously and throughly, always making sure to apply cologne afterwards even if he’s just going to bed

- No phone case. It would be helpful since he has pretty big hands and long fingers but he just lets his phone rawdog the world

- Leon is a trans man !! Government pays for his T shots and paid for his top surgery (though it was mostly so they could make Leon feel more indebted to them)

- Leon is just so extremely touch-starved it’s actually incredibly sad. Even if it’s just a medic touching him to patch him up, his skin prickles and his eyes sting

- Doesn’t mind sugary things, but if he’s going to drink soda, it has to be diet. He tends to stick with water and unsweetened juice, though

- If he’s going to use pet-names for someone (such as Chris perchance), he sticks with “baby”, “sweet thing”, “doll”, and “sweetheart”. He doesn’t usually use pet-names though, mostly because he thinks it sounds awkward coming from his mouth

Chreon stuff because homosexuality

- Leon absolutely adores hugging, snuggling, and cuddling with Chris. The man is bigger than him and makes the perfect pillow

- Finds it hot that Chris can easily manhandle him

- Favorite thing to do is cuddle with Chris on the couch or lay his head on Chris’ thighs or chest and watch movies with him

- Instead of rings, they have matching watches (canon)

- Leon can get needy and whiny when sleepy, especially after a mission, and will cling to Chris like a leech

- He feels comfortable and safe enough with Chris to relinquish control to him. He knows his husband will keep him safe and has his comfort in mind

- Claire had a fucking field day with them when she found out they were together. Literally got teased relentlessly, and she jokingly gave her blessing

- Leon found it amusing when she gave Chris the shovel talk, not him

- Leon teases Chris about his smoking habit but Chris never really does the same with Leon’s drinking, knowing it’s a sensitive subject and instead just makes sure his husband doesn’t drink too much

May post another part, who knows?

#leon kennedy #re4 leon #resident evil leon #chreon #chris redfield #just a little bit #leon kennedy headcanons #trans leon kennedy #because it’s canon #it’s true #I’m capcom

[itsclydebitches]

Post-canon universe where Mary ends up becoming a tattoo artist.

It starts when Ed winds up visiting the Bonnet household. Maybe he went there after Stede’s “death” only to learn that the Gentleman Pirate is out looking for him. Maybe this is post-reunion and they’ve just popped by to check on the kids. Whatever the reason, Ed ends up hitting it off with Mary and is particularly enamored with her art studio because holy shit you did the lighthouse painting!

He needs a version of that on his body. Now.

And Mary is like, I’m sorry, Mr. Blackbeard sir, but the human body is a slightly different canvas from what I’m used to and I’ve never—

But Ed is already waving her off. You think pirates know what the fuck they’re doing either? Nah. You get a buddy sloshed on rum, promise him it’s gonna look great, tattoo something on his ass, and then keep out of reach when he first sees it in a shaving mirror. It looks like shit. Of course it does! But then you do it to someone else and it looks a little less shitty. Then again and again until hey, that’s some talent right there! So go to town. Can’t look any worse than what Izzy first put on his back.

By this point Ed has hopped up onto a table and pulled a kit seemingly out of nowhere. He’s also got his shirt off—this is fine—and Mary has to admit, some of his tats really are awful. Not all of them! But enough that she can precisely pick out where some drunk sailor was trying out a needle for the first time. And yeah, she could easily justify this through fear, telling herself that it’s not like she can say no to the intimidating, legendary Blackbeard. Dating Stede or not, the guy could slash her throat in an instant. Actually, dating Stede is a mark against any mental stability.

The reality though is that it isn’t fear that convinces her. Mary just looks at the spots of crappy ink and thinks, Fuck. I could do better than that.

So she does. 

Mary might not know tattooing yet, but she’s got an eye for art and she picks up the mechanics quickly. At her request Alma brings in a bottle of something far nicer than rum—casting an interested look towards the pirate that reminds Mary, with a trickle of worry, that she always was her father’s daughter—and they spend a surprisingly pleasant afternoon with Mary experimenting and Ed commenting on her paintings. Is that flower a vagina, Mary? Yes it is, god, no one else gets that!

Mary tattoos a lighthouse onto Ed’s arm, entwining it with one of his tentacles. It’s nothing fancy, but Ed leaves the Bonnet household pleased as fucking punch.

Which means, of course, that a few months later Stede shows back up (in a terrible disguise) begging her to give him his own lighthouse on the opposite arm.

Stede Bonnet, are you really asking for the symbol of our now defunct marriage after you left me, came back, came out as gay, and then had the gall to fall in love with the most dangerous pirate on the seven seas?

…Yes?

Yeah, alright, fine. Get on the table.

Mary has been practicing since she last saw Ed, discovering that she loves the permanence of tattooing—putting her art on a moving canvas; a part of someone’s very identity, not just their home. Though it’s hardly considered good form in their community, she even managed to find a tutor after promising Doug that she wouldn’t fall in love with this one. Or if she does, she’s not going to throw him over for the new guy. You should really talk to Stede’s friend Lucius, Doug. He has fantastic ideas about the whole thing.

Stede tells Mary all about their lighthouse fuckery while she works and she finds that this story is a damn bit more romantic than their awkward wedding vows. In the end, this lighthouse is far more detailed than Ed’s, with steadier lines and a bit of shading, and Mary can’t help but think that it fits their personalities quite well. Stede is so happy he forgets himself and plants an exuberant kiss on Mary’s cheek. She just laughs.

From there other members of The Revenge show up when it’s safe for them to sneak into town, all of them wanting ink from a member of their Captain’s family. Their family, now. After she’s given Jim a pair of crossed knives and Oluwande a small orange tree on his back; Frenchie a recreation of his lute and the Swede the notes of his favorite song, word starts to spread to other crews. Wherever The Revenge goes they show off their ink. Even when they don’t, Mary’s developing a style that’s noticeable in any tavern or seedy alleyway—far nicer work than what anyone else has got.

The first time an unknown pirate shows up on their doorstep in the dead of night, Mary very nearly stabs him with one of the knives Jim gifted her. She whisper-yells at the poor bastard about manners and coming during business hours, really, what is wrong with you? After a sheepish apology, she brews an obscene amount of coffee and inks a child’s portrait onto the man’s arm. It’s by far the most challenging tat she’s done to date and somewhere around 4:00am, bleary-eyed and energized, Mary thinks that she’ll never want to do anything else again.

More pirates come after that. Doug worries. Mary reassures. As a compromise, she starts taking clients while her widow group meets. The presences of nine or so women who have nothing to lose—alongside Evelyn glaring from the corner—is more than enough to keep even the toughest ruffian in line.

Which isn’t to say that every client is a good experience. Oh no. Mary learns and more importantly, she listens, figuring out which pirates have beef with an ally of The Revenge, or who would sooner sell out their own than part with a single coin. On the truly worrisome visitors, the ones who do nothing to endear themselves during the long session or any of the repeat visits, Mary adds a small flower to their designs. Just her signature, she assures them, but everyone on The Revenge knows that it’s a message: don’t trust this one, watch your back.

Most though are surprisingly pleasant to spend time with. Sweethearts just dealing with a fair bit of trauma, as her ex-husband might say. When they thank her and try to press purses into her hand, Mary just shakes her head. It’s not like she needs the money. Instead, she draws out promises that they’ll do right by The Revenge and its co-captains, should they ever cross paths. When her family visits, Mary hears many tales about the crews that unexpectedly assisted during a tough raid, offered a good deal on supplies, bought them all drinks when they came into port.

Mary is the laughingstock of the town. She’s the woman whose husband ran out on her to become a criminal and then didn’t even have the decency to stay away, instead dying in a thoroughly tactless fashion. She’s the woman who gave up a lucrative painting career to instead take up a lowlife’s art form—if it could even be called such—with all manner of scoundrels calling on her. She’ll end badly, wait and see.

Mary is beloved by the pirate community. She’s the darling of Blackbeard and the Gentleman Pirate, more than capable of holding her own with both. She’s the woman whose ink you want etched into your skin—always safe to visit, always compassionate, and unspeakably talented. She’ll go far, wait and see.

Of course, it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. Mary teaches Louis how to draw and makes Alma promise that she’ll finish her education before following her father to sea; she takes Doug to bed each night and with his encouragement visits Evelyn many afternoons. She’s happy.

Shockingly, so is everyone else. Mary isn’t entirely sure what to make of the waspish man who shows up on her doorstep one afternoon, but he’s easily recognizable based on Stede and Ed’s descriptions. Israel Hands has just three tattoos: the ace of spades to mark his time in the Navy, the swallow for a well-traveled pirate, and a lopsided cross on his cheek that Mary almost asks about, before thinking better of it.

He wants a fourth tattoo. A lighthouse on the back of his neck.

It’s been a long time since Mary first started tattooing. It’s not that she forgot about her previous lighthouses, of course not, but any additional meaning doesn’t register as she works up a design to show Izzy. After all, he’s a sailor. A pirate. Most of them want something to connect them to the sea and there are only so many objects that do that.

The placement is a bit odd though. Mary warns him that he’ll have to keep his hair short for the tattoo to show, shaving the fine hairs regularly. Izzy just grunts and mutters for her to get to it. Mary doesn’t realize the significance of him allowing her to hold a razor to his neck, in his blind-spot no less. At this point, she’s considered an extension of the only two allowed to do the same.

This lighthouse is perfect. After years of work Mary is easily able to navigate the muscles in Izzy’s neck; the thin scar that—she shivers—is just a little too close to his jugular. Mary knows how to make her art catch the eye when Izzy stands tall and how to keep it from looking absurd whenever he twists his head. She doesn’t know this man well, but Mary senses that this piece should be meticulous and detailed, not a single line out of place. So she pours everything into the image, holding Izzy steady with a grip he doesn’t flinch from.

It's only months later, when the family comes back to visit, that Mary realizes what she’s helped accomplish. Izzy stands between his two captains and from the back she sees that all the lighthouses are balanced, like the top of a nautical star.

Oh, Mary thinks as Ed slips a hand onto the small of Izzy’s back; Izzy leans his shoulder into Stede’s. There it is. 

#OFMD #Our Flag Means Death #Mary Bonnet #Steddy Hands #Izzy Hands #Edward Teach #ofmdfic

[softcitrus2345]

Hey three questions?

Are requests open besides commissions?

Do you have any female ocs?

Will requests solely be for your ocs?

Three answers!

1. Unfortunately no, I don't have requests open. I can't afford to do art for others for free, and now that I just got my first job I'm gonna be a lot busier than I used to be, so finding the time/motivation to draw is gonna be harder for me to navigate

Also I feel like it defeats the purpose of me having commissions open while also making art catered for others for free, I gotta make money somewhere yknow

And from what I've seen in this community a lot of the requests artists get are for one-off prompts or characters, which just isn't my cup of tea. I can't get invested in a character or a drawing that is just like a one-time thing, if that makes sense?

I don't want that to snowball with me getting flooded with requests from people for random prompts they wanna see drawn out

I hope that makes sense, and please don't see this as me being upset at the question, I just like to be thorough with my answers and explain why /gen

2. I do! Unfortunately not a whole lot that I draw, my main female oc is Vanessa, and I just love her to bits. Her and Damien are stuck like glue so most of my drawings of her also include her lovely hubby~

If you're wondering about me drawing female weight gain, I'm just not really into that, for a number of reasons, but the main one being my feelings towards the female weight gain community, and how it treats women mostly just as an object for pleasure. As an afab person, it just makes me really uncomfortable how I see women portrayed in the feedism community, since from what I can tell most of the people that create/seek out that kind of content are cishet men just looking to get off.

I know that's not the entire female wg community but it's unfortunately the majority of what I've encountered, and it's just turned me off from the subject completely. There are *very* few times I'll see female weight gain portrayed in a way I can appreciate, and those few are like little gold nuggets that I gotta find by sifting through all the shitty stuff, it's just not worth it for me

It just feels dehumanizing, idk

As a fat person who has always been fat, and who is (unfortunately) still perceived by the general public as female, I've seen first hand the way society treats people like me, the backhanded comments and fatshaming and diet culture, and the horrible things I've been called before.. I see it all too often in the female feedism community, it's just a big no no for me overall

Sorry, I kinda went off on a tangent there, hope I didn't derail this post too much-

3. If I were to ever open up requests, I would say yes, they would only involve my ocs. I use this blog sort of as a public sandbox, where I can just kinda play around with my ocs and share my art with you all. I want the focus to be on my ocs and my own original content, with the exception of my friends and mutuals ocs which I do enjoy drawing from time to time

TLDR, yes, if I hypothetically opened requests they would only be for my ocs, just to keep my blog clear of clutter and random prompts I'm not interested in. I don't want to add another layer of stress to my life with requests and stuff that I can't keep up with

Maybe someday TTwTT

But yeah! Thank you for your questions, anon, it's always nice to have a prompt like this so I can share my thoughts, however messy they may be TTwTT

#softcitrus asks #softcitrus rambles #softcitrus ocs #niche blog #holy shit that was a lot XD #with every new ask I respond to I realize how much of a yapper I am DBFDNN-

[bonny-kookoo]

OT7: Sunset Songs 1

In which a hybrid is nothing but a status symbol, a pet, a sign of wealth and power- or are you maybe more than that?

Tags/Warnings: another hybrid fic shut up, Idol!OT7, Puppy hybrid!Reader, stigmatization and shitty views on hybrids, romance, angst

Additional Chapter Warnings: Hints of angst, unfair treatment of puppy but she's fine with it/used to it, best boys bangtan tho

Chapter Length: short/mid

Next ->

♥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

The award show is nothing out of the ordinary for you anymore.

Ever since the company had bought you for them, you've been a fixed part of their schedule as well, coming along to almost everything. It's typical for idols and other celebrities to own a hybrid once they have enough money and have accumulated a good fanbase; it's at this point almost tradition. And while you've heard a lot of horrible stories connected to the abuse of hybrids; you don't mind being with them at all.

You don't mind.

"Do you want some water?" Jimin asks, leaning a bit forward to make sure he doesn't have to yell over the music too much. They've already performed- and are now sitting on the sides, watching the other artists present their songs on stage. Namjoon had shaken his head when he'd noticed they didn't provide a seat for you- but one look around confirmed for him that every hybrid present was simply sitting on the carpet provided instead. It's the same as always, but he still hates it.

Fans always go wild about those interactions.

You simply nod your head at Jimin, the singer instantly searching for any of the bottled water- asking around, before he looks back at you apologetically. "It's fine!" you tell him above the loud music, before you turn around, watching the stage with your back leaned against his leg. You look up when someone starts to play with your hybrid ear; Taehyung grinning down at you before you turn your head back towards the stage, his hand remaining as his fingers move over the soft fur on your ears. It's a habit of his, you've noticed.

While some absolutely don't like it, others see it as something cute; they praise the group for treating you not like a pet or a maid but a person, while keeping the balancing act up as to not show anything that might be considered 'inappropriate'.

Those interactions, such as letting you sleep in their beds with them, or even making flirtatious comments, are kept behind closed doors. In public, you're nothing but platonic, a simply tender pet and owner situation.

You cough a bit, ears instantly pinned back as you feel rather watched by the cameraman now- it's your first public appearance after being a bit sick previously, news having had instantly picked up on it, creating rumors of possible mistreatment towards you as it's mostly the case when a hybrid is hidden from public view- and companies lied all the time about any accusations. But for you, it had really been just a simple sickness situation; and while you're not contagious anymore, you're visibly not up to one hundred percent of your health yet. "here." Jungkook says from the side, a hand on your back as he gives you his half empty bottle of water. "I already asked for some, they must've forgotten. You can have mine." he explains, and you nod thankfully, emptying the plastic container eagerly, cool liquid heaven on your still scratchy throat. He knows that they didn't forget. They simply didn't bother.

It's moments like these that remind you why you absolutely don't mind the booming music and many people and lights around you, even if they stress you out. You're with them; and you love them, because they're more than just nice to you.

Namjoon always takes you out for long walks and trips, loves to go hiking with you whenever he can. Seokjin enjoys your carefree nature; always up to play around with you, uncaring how ridiculous he might start acting, because you'd never find him weird. Yoongi takes long naps with you, and keeps you in his studio often because you're not only a very good listener, but you also remind him to take breaks and rest if he becomes too focused to remember anything around him. Jimin and you like to have cozy times at home- his days off happily spent with you lazing on the couch with him, hidden away from the outside world, just the two of you. And while Taehyung likes to sing to you and have you listen to him ranting about whatever daydream he might be having, Jungkook and you are always up to no good, testing out recipes he's found on the internet, or playing games until you end up playfully wrestling around.

So you don't mind the sleepless nights, public judgement and hectic schedule at all. You don't mind that your love will never be more than just platonic and unreturned in the way you love them;

You don't mind any of that, as long as you can stay with them.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #ot7 hybrid imagine #ot7 hybrid fanfic #ot7 x reader #ot7 imagine #ot7 fic

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

Young American - Part 2

A wee bit angsty, but it ends well!

Full series masterlist

WC: 9K+

Despite the conversation Y/N and Harry had outside of the tattoo shop, the one where he seemed remorseful for his behavior, Harry’s continued attitude towards her said otherwise. Just the very next day he went off on her because she had forgotten to refill the ink cups in the drawer at his station. It was an honest mistake, she really just forgot! But he felt that she had done it just to get under his skin and went out of his way to confront her about it. That squabble seemed to set the tone for the rest of the day, which no one was witness to because Rosa was still out sick and Y/N was still manning the front.

It didn’t stop there though, it seemed to get worse throughout the week. Rosa came back on Wednesday of that week so Y/N was put back on lots of shadowing, practice, and walk-ins. And since Harry was the one with less work to do, Auree had asked him to check on her tattoo practices. Despite her having tattooed many people, she still found it helpful to practice much more difficult things on the fake skin since most of her walk-in tattoos were very simple and tiny tattoos. Harry was a brutal critic, he would find the tiniest issue and tear her apart for it and  he seemed to find a lot of issues with her work. Like right now, she had a migraine coming on, so the last thing on her mind was the fucking practice piece that Harry was looking over. She was just trying to tough it out today and not puke as she often did when she got migraines. It was hard to focus on a thing other than the throbbing worsening on one side of her head.

“Jesus…” Harry mumbled as he looked over one of the mats she had been working on for a couple of hours, “If it were up to me you wouldn’t be allowed anywhere near the clients. Look at this… that line is way too thick. And her arm here is way out of proportion.” He pointed out on the American style pin-up girl she had worked on.

“Yes, shit. I can see that now.” She responded, despite the queasiness she felt.

“How is it possible that you’ve been here for 4 months and you’re getting worse?” He asked her and she sighed, “And look at this!” He pointed out yet another thing that wasn’t wrong but that he stylistically didn’t agree with, but he reamed her on it nonetheless.

“Fuck. Yeah, I know this is not my best work but-”

“I don’t want to hear excuses, Y/N. Clients sure as shit aren’t going to want to hear excuses when you’ve botched their fucking tattoo!” He berated her, “If you’re not going to take this seriously maybe your mind was on the right track last week and you should quit.” He said with frustration as he dropped the square of silicone skin on the counter before her and she felt her chest tighten. 

It was truly demoralizing to hear an artist she had looked up to say that to her. Not just that, her head hurt so bad and she felt like she was going to be sick at any second.

“I am serious about it, but-”

“I just said there are no valid excuses for giving a shitty tattoo. You don’t get do-overs on clients, Y/N. Either you can do it or you can’t. I’m sure as shit not going to waste my time inspecting your work when you clearly can’t deliver.” He said lowly and walked away.

After that interaction the rest of her day inched by so slowly. It was depressing how slow it went. She caught Auree on her way out and told her she had a big migraine and would let her know if she’d be able to come in the next day. Auree was going on an little vacation and Y/N didn’t want to disrupt her time away, so she just told her now and Auree was more than OK with her being off if needed and with that she took off and Y/N finished up her tasks before also heading home for the night.

**********

Y/N’s migraine didn’t go away. She discovered this at 6am when her alarm was blaring beneath her pillows. She groaned and switched her phone to silence in irritation at it’s harsh interruption. A low and pained groan fluttered out of her mouth as she felt the throbbing intensify from the loud sound. She shook her head a little and squinted at the screen glaring at her in its full brightness but whatever movement she had just made suddenly made her extremely nauseous and she barely made it to the toilet before she started heaving up whatever contents her stomach could get rid of.

“Fuck.” She mumbled with tears in her eyes as the throbbing sensation on one side of her head just pounded torturously after the force of vomiting. She sat slumped against the bathroom wall for a few minutes before brushing her teeth and then carefully getting back into bed and texting Auree that she was still sick and after that she just fell back asleep.

***********

As was his routine, Harry showed up at the shop at about 8:30 in the morning. He was expecting to see Y/N fluttering around, headphones in as she accustomed after he’d chewed her out about something the day prior. They found it easier to just block each other out when the frustration had carried over into the next day. He realized that he did it a lot more than her, she’d only done it twice before. The first time she did it was a week prior, after she shared that she was thinking of quitting the apprenticeship. The second time was on Monday when he had gone off on her the day before for forgetting to put ink cups into his supply drawer. And maybe tomorrow would be another one of those days for her because it didn’t look like anything was prepped yet and he was annoyed as he wanted to work at his station. 

Harry walked around to see where she was, he could’ve sworn he saw her car outside, but when he went back out to check the parking lot behind the shop it was just his car. He went back inside and decided not to think about it too much. Maybe Auree had her run some errands since she was on vacation until next Tuesday. With that, he just went to prepping the stations, he had nothing better to do anyway and maybe she could learn a thing or two from his prep work.

It was now 9am and Harry was starting to get a little worried for some reason he didn’t want to explore at the moment, but this wasn’t normal for Y/N. He was about to text Rosa when she came in greeting him with a smile.

“Hey, H!” She said cheerfully.

“Ummm, Y/N’s not here yet. Do you know where she might be?” He asked her and she furrowed her eyebrows.

“Oh, that’s strange.” Rosa said and pulled her phone out of her pocket and she hummed, “She hasn’t texted me anything about not coming in.” She said and then went to her contact and called her and the phone rang out until she got her voicemail, “Ummm, it went to voicemail. Let me try Auree, maybe she knows something.” She said and called Auree and her phone went straight to voicemail, “Well, Auree’s probably still on the plane. We can ask G when he comes in?” Rosa suggested he nodded and they went back to doin their thing. Ten minutes later Rosa came back with a frown, “I’ve tried a few times and still no answer.” She said showing Harry five more calls, “I’m getting a little worried.” She admitted to him.

“Morning, losers.” Vy teased as she stepped into the studio and Harry who normally just teased her back, frowned. “What’re you guys all huddled up about?” She asked as she set her things down on her counter.

“Have you heard anything from Y/N? Like where she might be?” Harry asked her immediately.

“Mmmm, no. Last I saw her was last night before I left, she went to Auree’s office to talk to her before she left though. Y/N wasn’t looking too good.” She said and Harry frowned as he heard this and suddenly his words telling her that maybe she should just quit were echoing in his head.

“A-are you sure?” He asked her and she nodded.

“Yeah, maybe we just need to wait for Auree to get back to us. Y/N’s phone keeps ringing out to the voicemail and she hasn’t come in.” Rosa explained to Vy and she frowned.

“That’s really weird…maybe she had an emergency or something happened-”

“Nothing happened to her, you idiot.” Harry interrupted with an edge to his tone and Vy scoffed.

“Screw you, Harry. Why do you even care, huh? I’ve seen and heard the way you’ve been towards her these last few days.” Vy snapped and Rosa frowned.

“What do you mean?” She asked Vy.

“Harry’s been a total dick to Y/N since Auree put him in charge of her training. He made her cry on Tuesday.” Vy said and Harry sighed.

“No I didn’t.” He said to Vy, “I didn’t make her cry.” He then turned to Rosa who was frowning.

“You did, Harry! I saw her crying in the lounge after you had said something to her. I asked her if you had said something to her and she shook her head and I pressed her on it and she just told me to leave it alone. I then asked her if she wanted me to go and get Auree and she said no and promised me she would deal with it. Whatever that meant.” Vy confronted Harry.

“Jesus, Harry.” Rosa grumbled and Harry frowned, “Well, we shouldn’t be pointing fingers if we don’t know what’s actually happening. Let’s just wait until G gets here.” Rosa said.

“Speaking of the devil…” Vy said as G came into the studio area of the shop.

“What’s going on?” G asked with a smile and Harry frowned, this was going to get bad and they would surely tell Eddie that he was out of line and get him fired.

“Y/N hasn’t shown up yet and we can’t reach her at all.” Rosa explained and his smile dropped, “Do you have any idea of where she might be?” 

“Ummm, no. She wasn’t doing too well yesterday towards the end of the day though.” He said and Vy glared at Harry, “Maybe she’s out sick.” He said.

“She never said anything to me and Auree didn’t mention anything either before leaving. Can you try her?” Rosa said and he nodded and tried calling and it also rang out until it went to voicemail.

“Yeah, she’s not answering.” He said which validated everyone’s concern now, “I’ll try again later, OK?” He said to everyone and they all nodded and dispersed. 

The air was a bit tense through out the day and it was a little after 1pm when G went into the lounge for his lunch and Harry followed after him.

“Hey, man.” He said and G turned towards him.

“Hey, what’s up?” G said as he pulled his salad out of the fridge.

“Ummm, are you sure Y/N didn’t say anything to you about why she’s not here?” He asked again.

“Why do you care?” He asked Harry who sighed. All day he had this weird throbbing feeling in his throat and chest. What if he had pushed her too far? What if something had happened to her and he never got the chance to make it right? That put an even worse feeling in his chest.

“I can’t care about her not being here? I’ll have to pick her slack up all day.” Harry responded in such a bratty way despite the lump that seemed to be permanently lodged in his throat and G just shook his head.

“Maybe she took your advise from yesterday and decided to quit.” G quipped and Harry frowned.

“G-”

“Is that why you’re so worried about it?” He asked and Harry bit his lip.

“If you know where she’s at and you’re being a prick on purpose-”

“I haven’t heard from her either, asshole. She’s my friend and I’m worried about her too.” G said and Harry sighed and just walked over to the front where Rosa was looking through the appointments for the day.

“Hey, H.” She said softly.

“Haven’t heard from her?”

“No. Or Auree.”

“Jesus… I may have made her cry, but she just really pissed me off that day and-”

“Harry, there’s never a valid reason for making someone else feel that upset. She’s not as experienced as all of you. She’s just an apprentice, she’s been here a while but she’s still learning, OK? And she’s really good for the little experience she has. You need to cut her some slack.” Rosa said and Harry nodded.

“Can I use your keys, need to grab something from the supply room.”

“Yeah, here.” Rosa said and Harry thanked her before actually heading back and into Auree’s office. He looked through some of the drawers she had and he found the emergency contact papers and he snapped a quick picture of Y/N’s before heading out and returning the keys to Rosa. He then snuck out of the back door and looked at the picture and then dialed the number.

“C’mon, Y/N…pick up.” He whispered as the line rang and rang and then there was silence for a moment, “Hello?” Your call has been forwarded to an automatic voice-, “Shit.” He mumbled and hung up. He then looked back at the picture to see if he had put in the correct number and he had. He then saw her emergency contact below. He bit his lip and decided he would just call it. It rang a few times before it stopped, “Hello?” He spoke tentatively.’

“Who is this?”

“Hi, my name is Harry. Is this Juliana?” He asked.

“Yes and Harry? I don’t know a Harry.” She said with a questioning tone.

“Oh right, sorry. I’m from English Graffiti, the tattoo shop Y/N’s the apprentice for?” 

“Oh! Is there something I can help you with?” She asked him.

“I don’t meant to alarm you at all but have you heard from her today? We’ve been trying to get a hold of her all bloody day and we’re really worried about her.” He explained. Now that he was alone the anxiety in his voice came clean through.

“Ummm, there must be some confusion, she’s home sick. Since yesterday she had a migraine.  The poor thing gets these every now and again, but they’re really awful and can last for days. She’s been sleeping nearly all day.” She explained, “Maybe that’s why she hasn’t been picking up.” Upon hearing that Harry felt a sense of relief completely wash over.

“Oh, thank god.” He sighed and the woman chuckled, “Our manager left for vacation yesterday and she probably forgot to tell us that she wouldn’t be coming in.” He explained, “Just wanted to check with you because we’ve all been thinking something was wrong all day.” He said.

“No, apart from the killer headaches she’s good. If she wakes up I’ll have her call you or text you?” 

“Oh no, that’s fine. I’ll just let everyone else know that she’s alright. Thank you.” He assured.

“Alright, hon. Thanks for checking in.”

“Yeah, hope she feels better soon. Just let her know if she needs another day or something she can text Rosa. She’s the assistant manager.” 

“Alright, buh-bye.”

“Bye.” Harry said and hung up. 

At least she was alive and hadn’t quit to his knowledge… she had given him quite a scare with that. He really needed to sit with the feelings he’d had all day, pure anxiety, guilt, and concern. Plus, now two of his colleagues had first hand-witnessed how his actions had impacted Y/N. He didn’t want them to think he was an asshole. Well maybe, it was a little late for that but he could still make it right. Harry took a little breather for a few minutes, he was deciding on whether he should text her and see how she was feeling; but after giving it some thought he decided that it would be best to talk with her in person when she returned.  He made it back inside just as Rosa was telling everyone that Y/N had texted her and informed her she was out sick and that she had talked to Auree about it before she left. Auree also got back to Rosa eventually, her phone had died and she had left her charger in her stowed away luggage and hadn’t been able to use it until she had arrived at her destination.

The day was closing out and Vy had just finished her final appointment. She saw that Harry had started to clean up, as Y/N usually would if she were around. So after saying her goodbye to her client she went over to Harry.

“Hey, sorry for throwing you under the bus like that earlier.” She apologized and he slightly turned to her as he moved to the next empty station and sprayed down the surface with disinfectant.

“It’s alright. I kind of deserved it, I was a complete prick to Y/N.” 

“Why though?” Vy asked and he sighed as moved to the next station.

“I don’t know…” he fibbed and she rolled her eyes.

“You like her or something?” She asked with an unimpressed expression on her face.

“No. I mean, she is kinda hot, but it’s nothing like that.” He stated and she looked at him skeptically.

“I just don’t get it, H. You were literally in the same boat as her for the longest time. Out of all of us you should understand how the apprenticeship thing can go. If anyone should be in her corner here it’s you.” Vy said.

“I know that. I’ve just been having a tough time settling in and getting things going for myself. I think it’s just easier to take it out on her since she doesn’t know stuff and whatnot.” He said to her and she sighed upon hearing this.

“It’s gonna get better. You’re a great artist, Harry.” Vy assured him and he smiled. “Now, I have another question for you.” She said.

“Alright, shoot.”

“Why didn’t you wipe the disinfectant?” She questioned and he chuckled.

“I actually learned that from Y/N. Apparently on the backs of the bottles it says it has to like marinate on surfaces for a little bit to really disinfect, so yeah. That’s why it’s just sitting here.” He said and she hummed.

“Interesting. Are you gonna apologize to Y/N?”

“Yeah. When she’s back though. Unsurprisingly she’s not too happy with me.” He reminded and she nodded.

“Of course. Well, just make it right, OK?” Vy asked and Harry nodded in assurance.

“I will.” He confirmed.

*************

Y/N was feeling a bit better in the evening, so when G spontaneously dropped by to check in she told her aunt to let him in. 

“Come in!” She called out when she heard a few knocks on her door and in came G with a smile.

“Hey, how you feeling?”

“It’s manageable right now.” She said.

“Good. We missed you at work today.” He said and then her eyes opened wide.

“I just recalled, Harry called my aunt!” She disclosed and G’s eyes widened.

“He what?” G asked in disbelief and she nodded.

“Yeah, she told me that a guy with a British accent called because he was worried about where I might be.” She smiled with satisfaction. Maybe he had a heart after all…she thought to herself.

“Well, yeah that’s accurate. He was freaking out almost all morning about it. I think he thought that he had definitely made you quit after yesterday.” G cackled and she giggled, “He was freaking out! I have never seen him so concerned!”

“Serves him right…” Y/N mumbled and G nodded with a grin.

“I mean, he must be a nice guy if Eddie has been friends with him this whole time.” G speculated.

“I guess…I mean, he was nice to me once and then shit on it two seconds later. I just don’t get his logic for treating me like shit. Do you think if I just don’t interact with him it would be unprofessional? Like of course, I’ll talk with him if it’s work related, but I’d avoid him at all other costs.” She said and G shook his head.

“No, I don’t think you’d be wrong for that.” He said and she nodded. 

After a bit more chatting he informed her that he had actually brought her some pho and they could eat together if she was up for it and after their meal he was leaving and Y/N was heading back to her room after bidding her aunt a good night. As she laid there staring at her ceiling she couldn’t help but feel a tinge of satisfaction knowing that Harry felt bad, even guilty perhaps, because of what he had said to her. But to the point that he called her aunt somehow? It was too good and so insane! And if she could, she would totally tease him about it until the day he died. But also, it kind of made her angry that he was so arrogant and self-important that he thought his words could break her down so much that she would actually quit. 

Yes, she had given it serious thought, but because as she had told him before, she deserved more than someone who was half-assed helping her. She knew she was good, Eddie didn’t just choose her for nothing, his Y/Nidation gave her confidence in her abilities and a lot of what she learned came directly from him. So if Harry had an issue with how she did things that meant he had an issue with Eddie, and there was no way that was the case. 

Harry was a total mind fuck to her. The part of her that loved mysteries and puzzles was awakened around him. She wanted to figure him out, wanted to see what his soft spot was and hopefully get him to ease up on her. But then on the other hand, she knew that engaging with him was probably not going to have the desired outcome and once again, with some snarky remark he would just enrage and disappoint her. So what was the point of even trying to be nice and win him over? Maybe she could just continue to do it for her own good karma then.

…. A COUPLE DAYS LATER ….

It was odd for someone to be at the shop before Y/N, but lo and behold, Harry was in before her. She knew it was him because he either drove a motorcycle or his classic, yellow Ferrari;  today it was the motorcycle. She took three deep breaths as she approached the back door to get inside. She wondered for a few seconds if she was on the devil’s fun list because after having a three day migraine, the last thing she needed was to be greeted first thing in the morning by one, Harry Styles. She rolled her shoulders back and exhaled away the negative thoughts before opening up the door and heading to the lounge/lockers area. As she turned into the room she was met with Harry pouring a mug of coffee.

“Morning.” She mumbled and he looked up.

“Good morning.” He responded with a small smile, “This is actually for you.” He said and her eye brows lifted in slight surprise.

“Ummm-”

“I read somewhere that caffeine can help migraines - well just headaches in general and I ummm, yeah…” He stopped awkwardly and abruptly, “Just in case you’re still dealing with a little pain.” He said and she nodded.

“OK, you can just leave it there. I’ll grab it once I’ve settled in.” She said and he nodded.

“Right of course.”

“Yeah, thanks.” She said awkwardly and he offered one last half-smile before he set the mug down and hurried out. 

“What the fuck?” She mumbled to herself as she put her things in her locker and then put her food container in the fridge. 

She looked down into the steaming mug with the gorgeously aromatic brew and wondered if he had poisoned it. But then she thought that even if he had and she passed on, at least she wouldn’t have to see him ever again. With that little grain of hope and acceptance she took a sip and then headed out to start setting up. Harry was cooperative when she got to his station and didn’t make any remarks to her about anything. She recalled G mentioning he was in a right state the first day she had not shown up, so maybe he was feeling like he needed to compensate for his guilt and se’d let him. 

She finished setting up and then went back for her coffee before she settled herself over at one of the drawing stations. She had been looking though what she had left the last time, it was the classic American style stuff. She struggled a lot with the animals from certain angles, her proportions would be a little bit off. Her last drawing had been of a heart-spotted leopard and the lines were not clean at all on that one, she knew her work on the pin-ups weren’t great, but she was seeing the same thing here. She wanted to try the pin-ups again and then show them to Harry - she was confident that she could do a much better job without her head feeling like it would explode at any given moment. So she got started and after about 15 minutes she saw a slight obstruction to the overhead light and knew Harry was likely looking down at her work.

“That’s much better than last time.” He said and she hummed in agreement, “Probably wasn’t coming out because you weren’t feeling well.” He said.

“Yeah, that’s what I was attempting to tell you and then you said that clients wouldn’t be interested in hearing any excuses when they got a shitty tattoo. Which is the truth so…” she trailed off and continued and he sighed.

“Can you take a break for a second?” He asked and she put her things down and spun around in the stool to face him, waiting for him to continue expectantly. “Y/N, I…” he paused and swallowed thickly, “I’m really sorry for how I’ve been treating you. You’re right, I’ve been an absolute asshole. Literally, the prince of all pricks and you have done absolutely nothing wrong to deserve that kind of treatment from me.” He said and she stayed with a cold and guarded exterior, she was waiting for the catch.

“I think I was just…jealous of you. Eddie talked to me about you from the day he found you at that tattoo con. When he got a copy of your portfolio he video called me to look over your work with him, he distinctly said that you would probably be as good as and even better than some of us within a few years. Then to hear him say that your first tattoos were top notch it made me feel…subpar. It made me wonder if maybe he was thinking about me when he told me that you’d be better than some of us. And then you started tattooing and people started asking for you to tattoo them for walk-ins instead of me and I…” he huffed, “I guess it confirmed what I was so scared of.” He said and she felt her heart ache a bit for him.

“Coming out here and being away from my family and everything I’ve ever known has been… really hard, to say the least. And I’m not saying that as an excuse, I’m just letting you know.” He explained and she just watched and listened attentively, “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’ve been a dick because I’m jealous and feeling a little insecure right now. I’m sorry for everything. For not being a great mentor and for tearing you down and for undermining your talent. I mean, I started when I was 17 and I didn’t start to get really well known until I was about 23… and you’re how old now?”

“24.”

“24, Jesus… And you’ve only been tattooing for like a month and you really are better than most artists I know when they started out!”

“That’s not even true.” She sighed with a small smile and a shake of her head.

“It is!” He confirmed, “I was…or I think I still am intimidated by you, Y/N.” He admitted. “And again it’s not an excuse to be a dick, but it’s the reason I was being a dick and it wasn’t cool. So again, I’m sorry and I won’t do anything like that again.” He apologized. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you told me a few weeks ago, in the parking lot?” He asked her and she nodded, “I know that you’ve been working hard at this for years and you’re right, you don’t deserve to be treated this way and I don’t want to be the reason that you leave. I know anyone would be lucky to take you on, but ummm, you should stay here with all of us. I truly believe that this is the best place for you.” He finished and inhaled deeply and he seemed visibly relaxed now that he had gotten that all off of his chest. 

To be quite honest, he had been mentally rehearsing talking points he wanted to make to her and he didn’t end up using any of them, he just let the words flow as he felt and she seemed to have taken them well from the expression on her face. Now he was waiting on her and that was just as scary as having to say he was sorry.

“OK.” She responded after a beat of silence, “Thank you for that.”

“Cool, so we can just pretend like none of this ever happened and start from zero. I’d like to take a shot at being friends or maybe we start with me being your mentor like you had originally hoped?” He asked with a small, but hopeful smile and she sighed.

“Ummm…look Harry, I do forgive you for everything that happened before. And I really do sympathize with what you’ve got going on that has contributed to all of this, but I have my reservations about things moving forward. The past is the past and I believe that things will be better from here on out but that doesn’t change my experience with you.” She explained as gently as she could and he frowned a bit, “You were really mean, Harry.” She said, “And I don’t mean to shit all over your effort, I really appreciate it but I don’t want to be friends with you. And apart from you looking over my practice pieces or whatever else Auree wants you to work on with me, I don’t think we need to interact.” She said and he felt completely disappointed in her response. There was a giant knot forming in his throat and he had no idea why it was hitting him so hard, “I swear, I have nothing against you and again, thank you for making things right, but I’m not interested in anything more than getting along at work.” She emphasized and waited for him to respond.

“But…” he started and then trailed off and she felt so bad as she saw the look in his eyes. But she didn’t trust him in the slightest. His eyes met her own again and he could see that her walls were still high and so instead of trying to defy her decision he just shut up and nodded, “OK, I understand and I respect your decision.” He said and that quite literally shocked her.

“Thank you.” She said quietly and he nibbled on his lip for a moment before just turning around and heading back to his station and putting on his headphones. 

Harry still felt like shit. He had been so awful to her that she wanted nothing to do with him! And while her reaction and rejection were justified, it genuinely hurt his feelings. Eddie was right in saying that she was like him, they were both talented and fast learners, but they were both also headstrong and guarded. As he sat there wallowing in the feeling of utter defeat and rejection at least he knew that she wasn’t mad at him.

***********

In the weeks that followed Y/N stayed true to what she had said, she was nice and professional towards him, definitely not as smiley as she was with those she had established a stronger friendship with, but she was nice. He did find that he still gravitated towards her when he was frustrated though. Before it was to take his frustrations out on her, but now that they were on good terms, he realized that he went towards her because unlike everyone else, she would just stay quiet and let him rant about things, even if they had nothing to do with her. And when he was done she would just ask him in the calmest tone if there was anything she could do to help, as if he hadn’t been fuming angry seconds before. She was solution and action driven in moments when he was just frozen with anger and frustration. He did tend to have a very tunneled vision when he was upset and he liked that she would help him work past that. When he didn’t have a stick up his ass about her he really saw all of her wonderful qualities and he found himself feeling jealous again, but not of her, but of those that were privy to the extra sweetness she brought to their lives.

He wondered if she would ever change her mind about him? If she would be willing to give him another chance so that she could see that he wasn’t forcibly playing nice with her, he was a really nice guy! Genuinely! But like everything and everyone, there are not so pleasant things about him too and he’s human and he makes mistakes, this one was a big one. In all his hurt he was carrying and his arrogance due to his wounded pride he really fucked up the possibility of a great relationship and that just weighed heavily on him. 

It made him sad because this was precisely why he left England. He had tarnished his relationship with his family and friends, he was ashamed of the hurt he caused and he was alone. He needed a fresh start, a new perspective, a chance to make new friends and once again, heh ad pushed mostly everyone away. He gave it a lot of thought over the past few weeks after she just set the boundary with him to only interacting when needed; she was still o kind to him, it made made him want to prove himself. All he knew was that he didn’t want to miss out on good people, he needed to stop pushing them away and open himself up to the possibility of finding happiness again. He had to fix this somehow. Someway he was going to fix it.

…. A FEW WEEKS LATER ….

The day had been rather slow; G’s appointment had an emergency and needed to reschedule, Vy was in between big pieces, and Harry well, he was still in the stages of building up his clientele, he’d had a few tattoos and plenty of consultations, five in the last few weeks, but it seemed that no one had really bitten yet to get a really big piece and well, Y/N and Rosa had just been hanging out at the front. Auree had been out and doing promo for the shop, she had friends in TV and radio and was really trying to bring more business in. So now, they were about two hours from closing and all twiddling their thumbs after doing some cleaning.

“Y/N,” Vy said, coming out to the front.

“Yeah?” She asked?

“I have a job for you if you want to come on back?”

“Ummm OK. Talk to you later.” She smiled to Rosa before following Vy back to her station, “OK, what can I help with?” She asked with a smile.

“I need you to touch up some of my tattoos.” She said with a smile and Y/N’s eyebrows shot up and upon hearing that both G and Harry glanced over to them.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, girl! C’mon. Even have the color ready for the flowers.” Vy said as she sat in her chair and Y/N headed over to put on some gloves. Harry and G wandered over and she started feeling a little bit more nervous. Vy’s tattoos were very intricate and symmetrical, if she screwed something up it would be very noticeable. As she sat down beside her with the machine in hand she started feeling a bit more nervous. 

“So what am I doing again?”

“Just touch up the red for me on my arm and then we can talk about the touch ups on my back.” Vy said and Y/N pressed the pedal on the machine, making it buzz to life. She could feel Harry’s gaze intent on her and she looked up at him and was more than appeased when she saw that he was smiling at her.

“It’s just coloring it in, you got this.” He said and everyone seemed a bit shocked to hear that come out of his mouth, but they didn’t say anything and she just nodded and went for it. It only took about 20 minutes to fill in all of her flowers. And then Vy asked her to touch up some little things on her back and was showing her on a mirror what she wanted cleaned up.

“I have to go to the bathroom don’t start without me!” G said and they all chuckled as he rushed away. Harry switched out her ink as Vy settled on the chair, Y/N was looking over the areas she had said she wanted the lines touched up.

“Before you start what do you need to make sure you do?” Harry asked her and she bit her lip, “Look at all of those intricate shapes and lines you need to replicate.” He hinted and then her eyebrows raised as she turned to Harry.

“I need to make sure the skin is taut enough to get the exact shape?” She asked and he smiled and nodded.

“Exactly, good job.” He smiled and Vy smiled as Harry encouraged Y/N, “Don’t forget that you can tell her how she should position herself so that it’s comfortable for you to tattoo her.” He reminded and she nodded. 

She eventually just asked Vy to lay on her her stomach because it was easier for her to work horizontally to start and so she did and when G came back she started the touching up. Both he and Harry were encouraging her along the way and Vy, being a heavily tattooed person, was taking it like a champ, which was less nerve-racking for her. When she finished up and showed Vy she was very pleased with her touch-ups. 

“I’m next in line.” G said as Y/N cleaned up and she giggled. A little bit after, they all got ready to close up for the day.

“Hey guys, so next Saturday my husband and I are throwing a little halloween party at our house. We do it every year. I’ll text you all the details and if you’re up to it feel free to come, I’d love to see you all there.” Vy announced and everyone nodded in excitement and thanked her for the invite and finished up for the day. G was waiting on Y/N to have some dinner, but he was chatting with Rosa up front while he waited.

“You did really well with Vy.” Harry said as he finished packing up his things. He seemed to be leaving extra early today, he usually walked out a few minutes before her or at the same time.

“Thank you. And thank you for talking me through some of the things, it was really helpful.” She said with a smile and he nodded.

“Good. Well, have a good one, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He said and she nodded and waved goodbye as he headed out of the back. She finished sweeping and soon Rosa and G were coming back to the studio.

“Ready?” He asked and Y/N nodded, “Rosa’s gonna join us.”

“OK perfect! The more the merrier!” Y/N smiled and they soon grabbed all of their things and headed out for some sushi. 

**************

They hadn’t been sitting at the table for more than two minutes when G spoke up and offered up a topic of conversation with his commentary.

“So Harry’s been really nice to you.” He said and Y/N glanced up from the menu. 

By now, it was no secret that things had been rough with them at the start. It’s not that they had aired their dirty laundry to everyone, but there was definitely less tension and a noticeably better vibe than before.

“Yeah, we talked it out a few weeks ago.” She said before glancing down at her end again.

“And you didn’t say anything?” He asked in shock and she sighed.

“He just…got a little bit personal and I didn’t think he would appreciate me going off to talk about it with anyone. But it’s settled.” She assured him and Rosa who smiled.

“Well that’s really good! He seems to be in a better mood too, so I’m sure being on good terms with you has helped with that.” Rosa added.

“I think so too.” Y/N smiled.

“You should’ve heard him when she was tattooing Vy! Just coaching her through some things. It was sweet.” G said and Y/N rolled her eyes as Rosa cooed.

“I would certainly hope he coaches me through stuff, he’s the one in charge of my training.” She reminded and G huffed as Y/N took a sip of her water.

“Vy told me that he said you were hot.” Rosa said with a grin and Y/N choked on her water. Her eyes teared up and she coughed until the discomfort had cleared only to see G and Rosa laughing at her.

“You guys are dicks.” She said and took a slow sip before clearing her throat.

“What if he has a little crush on you?” Rosa added with an endeared pout.

“Oh, he certainly doesn’t.” Y/N assured the two.

“He is hot though!” Rosa said, “I mean, anyone with a functioning brain can see that he’s attractive.” She said looking to G and then shifting her attention back to Y/N.

“I mean, he’s not really my type, but yeah, he’s hot.” G accepted and then they both looked to her expectantly.

“What?” She asked and Rosa rolled her eyes, “He’s not my type either, but I guess he’s cute.” She shrugged before looking back down to her menu and then Rosa started talking about the amount of walk-ins that would try to leave him their number or get his email. Y/N had experienced that once so she was able to corroborate that story.

Y/N had been lying through her teeth because in reality Harry was exactly her type. Tall, slender, heavily tattooed, curly haired, talented, pretty and dimply-smiled, mysterious… that’s also why it was so disappointing to her that he had been such a dick to her from the get go. She had thought all of him was alluring at the start, not just his art. But his awful personality had really put her off of him. Y/N was one of those people that had a hard time looking past hurtful things. 

When you’ve been mistreated and hurt so many times it’s kind of hard to trust and give people second chances after they’ve wronged you. She wasn’t one to hold a grudge and stay upset forever, but were they not working in the same place she would have probably told him to go play on the highway and leave her alone, she didn’t need that energy in her life. But the fact that they would be around each other professionally for who knows how long pushed her to give him a second chance, it was certainly on her terms, but he at least was appreciative of that and wasn’t taking it for granted. She recalls him saying something about respecting her decision and it made her smile when she thought about him keeping his word. He had been incredibly respectful of her boundary and had not even gone near the fence to test if he could get away with more. She certainly had her reservations about him but he had been a fucking dream lately. If only he had been that way from the start…

When she tuned back into the conversation G and Rose were debating about what sushi rolls to get before asking her what she was thinking of getting, to which she replied “anything with spicy tuna” and they chuckled. Minutes they later they placed their orders and now that they were just waiting for the food to come Rosa spoke up and asked them the question that had actually been on her mind as well.

“So are you guys gonna go to Vy’s party?”

“I can’t, it’s my grandparent’s 60th wedding anniversary that same day and we’re having this huge party for it.” G said, “Otherwise I would definitely go.” He explained with a small frown.

“Are you going?” Y/N asked Rosa.

“I think so? I want to go, but as long as I know someone there. Are you?” She asked Y/N.

“I’d like to.” She shrugged, “We’ll see though.” She responded.

“I’m gonna ask her if I can bring a friend in case you don’t go. I don’t have any plans this year, so might as well! We can do some team bonding.” She said with a grin and they all nodded along. 

Usually, Y/N went to visit her parents since all of her nieces and nephews from her brother and cousins went to their neighborhood for trick or treating. It was cool to catch up with everyone then, but her parents weren’t too happy with her at the moment. It all started when they found out she was just doing some freelance design consulting and living off of her Etsy shop so that she could be a tattoo apprentice. Tensions were high and if she really gave it some thought it was upsetting for her because she’d always been one of those model children, but after moving in with her aunt to come to school in LA they felt that she had steered her down the wrong path. 

She tuned back in when the waitress swung by and announced she would soon bring out all of their plates and then Y/N informed them that she would go to the bathroom before they got started. So she excused herself and hurried into the restaurant from the lovely outdoor seating area they were in.

**************

For the first time in a long time Harry was goin on a date. Admittedly, he had been a little depressed and lonely since moving out to Los Angeles. Sure, he was cool with mostly everyone at the shop, but he wasn’t necessarily friends with them like G was with Y/N and Rosa where they could just hang out after work. He was a little on the shy side and after his whole issue with Y/N he felt that it was a little bit harder to befriend his coworkers. So he went for the next best option - he got on a dating app. He had put down that he was looking to make friends, but if he were to get a hook up out of it, that wouldn’t be too bad. 

The plan for tonight was nothing too formal, the girl he was meeting up with said she really liked this sushi place and he was a little early so he messaged her that he had grabbed a table for them. Around the ten minute mark after their set meeting time she messaged him that she was going to be a little late, which he said was fine. But now he had been waiting nearly thirty minutes and was starting to feel like an idiot. He checked his phone to see any messages from her and there was nothing so he tried sending her a message to see where she was and after a bit he got no response and he started to come to the conclusion that he had been stood up. Once again, it seemed that rejection was his new best friend. He was trying not to let it get him down, but it was really hard not to.

“Harry?” Hearing his name distracted him from his phone and glanced up to see Y/N. Of all people in this city she was stopped beside him? He was definitely paying back his karmic dues.

“Oh, hi.” He said, forcing a smile because the last thing he wanted was to get caught in this situation.

“Are you eating alone?” She asked him and glanced at the table that seemed to be set for two. There were two placemats and water cups and an unused straw across from him. His water was half drunk and the other one untouched and it seemed to have been that way for a while because the paper placemat it was set on was pretty worn down from the condensation of the glass dripping down onto it.

“No, I’m waiting for someone.” He said as he glanced down at his phone in his lap and she saw his foot tapping nervously, “She seems to be running late.” He explained with a smile, but the look in his eyes exuded sadness and disappointment.

“Oh.” She responded and she very quickly put two and two together and she felt bad for him. It seemed that they universe was at war with him and it was hard for her to see it.

“Yeah. Have you eaten here before?” He asked her and she nodded.

“Yes, it’s really good.” She smiled.

“Any recommendations?” He asked her.

“Ummm, what kind of fish do you like?” She asked and he shared what he preferred and she pointed out a few of the rolls to him on the menu and just as she was pulling back his stomach grumbled loudly and she laughed softly as did he.

“Sorry, I had a really light lunch because I tend to overeat at sushi, but I’m pretty hungry now.” He excused.

“It’s cool. Well I’m gonna go to the bathroom, but ummm, I hope it goes well.” She said and he nodded and she hurried away. 

In the time that Y/N had gone to wash her hands Harry had checked his app to see if this girl had responded to anything and then saw that she wasn’t even on his matched list anymore. She had unmatched and stood him up. He really felt the urge to cry, he was just feeling fragile and he wanted to avoid her coming by and having to witness him scurrying off in defeat. He was just quickly sliding out of the booth when he backed into someone and much to his dismay he turned around to see her there again.

“Fuck, so sorry.” He apologized sheepishly.

“It’s alright.” She assured him with a small smile.

“Change of plans.” He explained without any prompting from her, “A shame, I was really looking forward to trying that roll you showed me.” He tried to play off his embarrassment.

“Well, i-if you’re up for it you can join us? G and Rosa are here as well.” Y/N said, extending an invitation to him and he smiled and shook his head before looking to the ground with some bashfulness. She was so nice he couldn’t even look at her.

“Oh no, I don’t want to intrude on your plans.” He declined, looking back to her and she shook her head.

“You’re not! We literally agreed on this over lunch at the shop, it’s nothing spectacular.” She assured him and his eyes met hers and she could almost see a silent gratitude in them as they flickered back and forth between her eyes.

“Y-you’re sure?” He asked and she nodded with a smile.

“Of course.” She assured and he bit his lip.

“G doesn’t like me very much. What if I-”

“G’s fine.” She interrupted and he nodded, “C’mon, we’re in the patio area.” She said and he followed her out. He got a bit nervous when he saw G and Rosa laughing at the table, he was nervous of what Y/N would say to explain him crashing their dinner, “Look who I found as he was about to order some take out!” Y/N announced and both Rosa and G turned to them and smiled upon seeing Harry trailing behind her.

“Harry! Come have a seat!” Rosa said patting at the empty spot next to hers and Y/N then sat across from Harry, next to G.

“Our food should be out soon, but you can grab whatever you want, we’re all sharing.” G informed him.

“Oh, thank you.”

“I actually ordered that roll I told you about in there. You can try it and see if you like it.” Y/N offered.

“Oh sure, thanks.” He responded quietly and then she felt G tap her foot with his and she scoffed quietly. 

Harry was glad that nobody made things weird when he joined. He was just used to expecting the worst at this point, but he needed to use this as an example of things not always being as glum as he anticipated them to be. He was in a new place, with new people, maybe his old friends had given up on him, but the people around him weren’t them. If anything, these people were like his family, who no matter how hard he pushed them away or hurt them, they seemed to treat him with kindness and hold him in some sort of good regard. So instead of dwelling on his insecurities he tuned out of that part of his brain and focused on the conversation at the table. Rosa had started talking about her pet cat and how she wanted G to do a portrait of her on her shoulder. Once she showed G a photo of her hairless cat he declined doing it because it looked “too much like a ballsack” to which they all burst into laughter as Rosa pouted and threw a piece of ginger at G.

“You’re a dick!” She insulted through her chuckles, “Harry, would you be a peach and do a portrait of my cat on me?” She asked as she turned to him and he chuckled and shrugged.

“I mean, yeah, if you really wanted it, then yes.” He chuckled and she then stuck her tongue out playfully at G who just rolled his eyes.

“What’s the worst tattoo you have ever had to give someone?” G then asked Harry.

“Well, it’ll soon be Rosa’s cat…” everyone burst out laughing at his joke and Rosa playfully smacked him in the arm, “I’m kidding!” He assured her with a grin. He was over the moon with himself because the joke had landed well. He glanced over to Y/N who was still giggling too much that she still couldn’t chew her mouthful. She was so fucking cute.

“Yeah, yeah, asshole.” Rosa giggled, playfully elbowing him.

“But one time this guy wanted some pornstar’s body with a one of those horse head masks over her face… I tried to talk him out of it, but he was really set on getting it done. Two years later he came in for a coverup because his pregnant wife threatened divorce if she had to see it one more time.” He said with a chuckle and they all laughed, “What about you?” Harry asked and G sighed.

“A sexy Mrs. Potatohead.” He said and cringed, “She had like cleavage and all…and the guy’s wife was there the whole time. She really thought it was sweet of him to dedicate that to her…love makes you do stupid things, I guess.” G shrugged and they all agreed to that statement there. 

Rosa then asked Harry if he was going to Vy’s party and he said he would try to make it and Rosa expressed her excitement. And so they carried on making some conversation until it was time to go and they were waving to each other before getting into their cars and heading home. 

As Y/N settled into her bed that night her mind went back to Harry. She wondered if he was OK after getting cancelled on or stood up, whatever it was. He had been pleasant tonight, funny, charming, entertaining…it was a side of him that she hadn’t seen before and it came so easily from him. She wanted to see more of that part of him. If he had been like that from the start she would’ve been head over heels for him by now, she was certain. Nevertheless, she was glad that she had been able to do something nice for him and maybe even made him a bit happy. With that thought in mind she was smiling as she drifted off to sleep.

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[zeglythofficial]

Tarot anon 1.0 here!

So, I decided to go on a hunt for another tarot card reader just for the sake of discussion and I'll gloss over things that they said that match things other readers said which is a lot, mind you.

She did say something happened between them that scared T (I'll go more in depth later). She said it was most likely an almost kiss.

She also said T is comfortable with BB and she will stay with him for a while but it might not last because their priorities will diverge in the future. Also, she said that they probably been together for a least 2 years, she doesn't think it was more than that I think it matches the time-line because apparently no one knows for long they've actually been dating.

About J: the same old story. He doesn't love her anymore, but he's basing the failing artist who clings to her because he hopes being her bf will help his career. She said his next project might bomb but she can't know for sure, but that there are things in the relationship he doesn't want people to know (take a wild guess as to what it is). He definitely feels threatened by T because it was the first time he's seen R be attracted by another man and J can't stand the thought of it. She said he's definitely bitter over their connection and hopes they stop talking to each other because ir has been bothering him.

R is in deep, deep denial. My friend said that T messes a lot with her head and her heart, but she decided to drown out those thoughts because she loves J and doesn't want to hurt him.

About and R. As I said, she also said they nearly kissed after they shared about their lives. Bare in mind that the Moon card was there which represents a secret. She believes R also told him about the hate train and how sad it made her, he tried to comfort her (she said that she could see it - I show her a picture so it could help her focus) him brushing her cheek and that's when the almost kiss happened. She said that T felt something that scared him a lot and it made him pull away because again he doesn't want to catch feelings.

I asked her why that is and answer was: he's focused on his career and in growing more before he thinks about it because when he does all his focus will be on that one thing and that one person and into making it work. He's the kind: I need to find someone worth all that type of guy. And she said it scared him because R is a friend with a bf, he's dating but mostly importantly, it was almost like a part of him knew that it'd be a point of no return not just because it would be cheating, but because deep down he knew he could fall for her hard.

Spilling the tea here

Omg spill the tea! Did she mention anything about their future? Or projects? 👀

Not us both hunting for tarot card readers lol! We’re so invested in Zeglyth!

YES! Another vote towards “almost kiss”! 3 people have now said that’s most likely what happened.

T has been dating BB for 2 years? That makes more sense tbh. I think their relationship is newer than we think but they have known each other longer. So maybe they’ve known each other for 6 years but only began dating 2-3 years ago?

J’s next project might bomb? Not surprisingly at all lol. My friend said he needs to go to Broadway or producing, he’s not cut out for being an actor. Ouch. Ofc he’s jealous of T. It was so obvious and he looked so annoyed during their interviews. J can’t expect to be a shitty bf and think R won’t find someone else lol. He’s going to be bothered then because Zeglyth won’t stop talking.

Poor R, I honestly feel bad for her. She’s such a sweet and loving gf, confused by her growing feels for T and loving J. I wish she knew how J truly felt about her so she could dump him :(

Not T being scared in all tarot readings lol. That’s insane they everyone is saying T was scared of R and shut down quickly.

I can totally see T being the type of guy who puts his all into a relationship (one he truly wants) and forgetting about everything else. My friend said the same thing! Once T has an established career then he can get the girl.

KEEP IT COMING EVERYONE!

These are amazing and I’m addicted to reading them :)

#my answers #zeglyth #written in the stars